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Smith, Mabell S. C. (Mabell Shippie Clarke), 1864-1942

"Ethel Morton at Rose House"

"There, throw it into the fireplace--gravel, toadstools,
old brass," she catalogued contemptuously, and Dicky, swept on by her
eagerness, obediently cast his treasures among the soft pine boughs
that filled the wide, old fireplace.
"I'll clear them away," promised Mrs. Schuler. "Hurry," and she fairly
turned them out of the house.
"You made me throw away my shiny things," complained Dicky as they ran
down the lane as fast as they could go.
"Never mind; you'd have jounced them out of your pocket anyway, running
like this," and Dicky, taking giant strides as his sister and his
cousin held a hand on each side, was inclined to think that he would be
lucky if he were not jounced put of his clothes before he got home.


CHAPTER XIV
THE STORM
After all, they need not have jerked poor Dicky over the ground at such
a rapid pace for the storm, though it grumbled and roared at a
distance, did not break until a late hour in the night. Then it came
with a vengeance and made up for its indecision by behaving with real
ferocity.
To the women at Rose House, accustomed to the city, where Nature's
sights and sounds are deadened by the number of the buildings and the
narrowness of the streets, the uproar was terrifying.


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