1
/
of
0
SAP
JUST SIXTEEN
JUST SIXTEEN
Regular price
$0.99 USD
Regular price
Sale price
$0.99 USD
Shipping calculated at checkout.
Quantity
Couldn't load pickup availability
CONTENTS.
PAGE
A LITTLE KNIGHT OF LABOR (_Two Illustrations_) 7
SNOWY PETER 63
THE DO SOMETHING SOCIETY 80
WHO ATE THE QUEEN'S LUNCHEON? (_Illustration_) 92
THE SHIPWRECKED COLOGNE-BOTTLE 110
UNDER A SYRINGA-BUSH 126
TWO GIRLS--TWO PARTIES 137
THE PINK SWEETMEAT 154
ETELKA'S CHOICE (_Illustration_) 177
THE FIR CONES 204
A BALSAM PILLOW 217
COLONEL WHEELER 229
NINETY-THREE AND NINETY-FOUR 238
THE SORROWS OF FELICIA 258
IMPRISONED 271
A CHILD OF THE SEA FOLK 282
JUST SIXTEEN.
A LITTLE KNIGHT OF LABOR.
The first real snow-storm of the winter had come to Sandyport by the
Sea.
It had been a late and merciful autumn. Till well into November the
leaves still clung to their boughs, honeysuckles made shady coverts on
trellises, and put forth now and then an orange and milk-white blossom
full of frosty sweetness; the grass was still green where the snow
allowed it to be seen. Thick and fast fell the wind-blown flakes on the
lightly frozen ground. The patter and beat of the flying storm was a
joyous sound to children who owned sleds and had been waiting the chance
to use them. Many a boy's face looked out as the dusk fell, to make sure
that the storm continued; and many a bright voice cried, "Hurrah! It's
coming down harder than ever! To-morrow it will be splendid!" Stable-men
were shaking out fur robes and arranging cutters. Already the fitful
sound of sleigh-bells could be heard; and all the world--the world of
Sandyport that is--was preparing to give the in-coming winter a gay
welcome.
But in one house in an old-fashioned but still respectable street no one
seemed inclined to join in the general merry-making. Only two lights
broke its darkness: one shone from the kitchen at the back, where,
beside a kerosene lamp, Bethia Kendrick, the old-time servitor of the
Talcott family, was gloomily darning stockings, and otherwise making
ready for departure on the morrow. The other and fainter glow came from
the front room, where without any lamp Georgie Talcott sat alone beside
her fire.
It was a little fire, and built of rather queer materials. There were
bits of lath and box-covers, fence-pickets split in two, shavings,
pasteboard clippings, and on top of all, half of an old chopping-bowl.
The light material burned out fast, and had to be continually
replenished from the basket which stood on one side the grate.
PAGE
A LITTLE KNIGHT OF LABOR (_Two Illustrations_) 7
SNOWY PETER 63
THE DO SOMETHING SOCIETY 80
WHO ATE THE QUEEN'S LUNCHEON? (_Illustration_) 92
THE SHIPWRECKED COLOGNE-BOTTLE 110
UNDER A SYRINGA-BUSH 126
TWO GIRLS--TWO PARTIES 137
THE PINK SWEETMEAT 154
ETELKA'S CHOICE (_Illustration_) 177
THE FIR CONES 204
A BALSAM PILLOW 217
COLONEL WHEELER 229
NINETY-THREE AND NINETY-FOUR 238
THE SORROWS OF FELICIA 258
IMPRISONED 271
A CHILD OF THE SEA FOLK 282
JUST SIXTEEN.
A LITTLE KNIGHT OF LABOR.
The first real snow-storm of the winter had come to Sandyport by the
Sea.
It had been a late and merciful autumn. Till well into November the
leaves still clung to their boughs, honeysuckles made shady coverts on
trellises, and put forth now and then an orange and milk-white blossom
full of frosty sweetness; the grass was still green where the snow
allowed it to be seen. Thick and fast fell the wind-blown flakes on the
lightly frozen ground. The patter and beat of the flying storm was a
joyous sound to children who owned sleds and had been waiting the chance
to use them. Many a boy's face looked out as the dusk fell, to make sure
that the storm continued; and many a bright voice cried, "Hurrah! It's
coming down harder than ever! To-morrow it will be splendid!" Stable-men
were shaking out fur robes and arranging cutters. Already the fitful
sound of sleigh-bells could be heard; and all the world--the world of
Sandyport that is--was preparing to give the in-coming winter a gay
welcome.
But in one house in an old-fashioned but still respectable street no one
seemed inclined to join in the general merry-making. Only two lights
broke its darkness: one shone from the kitchen at the back, where,
beside a kerosene lamp, Bethia Kendrick, the old-time servitor of the
Talcott family, was gloomily darning stockings, and otherwise making
ready for departure on the morrow. The other and fainter glow came from
the front room, where without any lamp Georgie Talcott sat alone beside
her fire.
It was a little fire, and built of rather queer materials. There were
bits of lath and box-covers, fence-pickets split in two, shavings,
pasteboard clippings, and on top of all, half of an old chopping-bowl.
The light material burned out fast, and had to be continually
replenished from the basket which stood on one side the grate.