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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Abel!" said his sister, running toward him, and pulling him forward. "Mr. Wetherley, this is my brother, Mr. Abel Newt." The young men bowed. "Oh, indeed!" said Zephyr. "How'd he come here listening?" "Chance, chance, Mr. Wetherley. I have just returned from school. Pretty tough old school-boy, hey? Well, it's all the grandpa's doing. Grandpas are extraordinary beings, Mr. Wetherley.
We're going to place them in the middle of the ring, and watch which hops first outside the circle." Jewel chuckled gleefully as she caught one. "Oh, mother, aren't his eyes funny! He looks as surprised all the time. Now hop, dearie," she added, as she placed him beside the one Mr. Evringham had set down. "Which do you guess, Anna Belle? She guesses grandpa's will beat."
"Oh, no, father!" replied Julia, smiling. "There is nothing I desire less." "Mother'll get acquainted with the people at church," said Jewel, "and I know she'll love Mr. and Mrs. Reeves. They're grandpa's friends, mother." "Yes," remarked Mr. Evringham, busy with his dinner, "some of the best people in Bel-Air have gone over to this very strange religion of yours, Julia.
The train returned silently to Pittsburgh, the Grand Army hat was taken off and hung in its place, the blanket was pulled up about Grandpa's shoulders, and this one of the pair of travelers was left to take his rest. Comfortable and swift as the whole journey was, nevertheless the feeble, old soldier was tired.
I've told you ever so many times, and now you are going to see the place yourself where Daddy was a little lad like you." "Oh!" said Sunny Boy again. All during the rest of the dinner he was very busy, thinking. He had forgotten that Daddy had lived at Brookside, or, to be more exact, he had not understood that Grandpa's farm was the same farm on which Daddy had been a little boy.
Now I had been kidded enough about that legacy of mine, and when that doll, that ain't such a muchness herself, commences to hand out inferences, I naturally lost my goat, but remembering that I am now a lady I let go of my hatpin and merely remarked, 'Yes, but I came by it honestly, and I can safely say that I am no Foxy Grandpa's fair-haired child.
"I can't read it," mourned Sunny aloud. "But I guess you're not Grandpa's turtle, 'cause you haven't any initials on you. I wish you'd put your head out, just once." But, though he put the turtle gently on the ground again and kept very still for at least five minutes, the queer, narrow little head stayed safely in its shell house. The turtle did not run away.
But Julia shook her head. "That hasn't happened yet." "It did happen with every other one you ever had," Florence urged plaintively. "He chased 'em every last one off the place, and they never came back. You know perfectly well, Aunt Julia, grandpa's just bound to hate this dog, and you know just exactly how he'll act about him." "No, I don't," said Julia. "Not just exactly."
Before the red bandana had gently performed its work in grandpa's hand, Sylvia beckoned her party from the room, and showing them the clear moonlight night which followed the storm, suggested that they should both save appearances and enjoy a novel pleasure by floating homeward instead of sleeping.
I saw father go into the room a moment since, and grandpa's out on the piazza. We'll step softly just inside the door, for father never likes to be disturbed when he's there." With their arms about each other's waists the two friends went skipping along, until they reached the apartment appropriated to the old gentleman.
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