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Updated: June 14, 2025
Now, it was Carl's to go on, to seek the flowering. Unconscious that he was the heir-apparent of the age, but decidedly conscious that the woodshed was dark, Carl finished the pile. From the step of the woodshed he regarded the world with plaintive boredom. "Ir-r-r-r-rving!" he called. No answer from Irving, the next-door boy. The village was rustlingly quiet.
"Good-evening, miss. Good-evening, miss." The two girls vanished rustlingly through a door over which was hung a piece of cardboard with the written words: "Ladies' cloakroom." In a few moments they emerged, white and fluffy apparitions, eager, self-conscious, and they vanished through another door. Mr.
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