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Updated: May 9, 2025
Sure enough, there was Oh-Pshaw, all curled up in the embrace of the wide branches, her face in her arms, the picture of abandoned woe. Sahwah swung up beside her and called her gently by name. Oh-Pshaw raised her head with a start and looked surprised when she saw who it was. "Hello," she responded forlornly to Sahwah's greeting. "Don't take it so to heart," said Sahwah cheerfully.
It would do them a world of good to see something wet for once." Fate or the fairy godmother, or whoever the mysterious being is that always pops up at the right moment in the story books, but who is practically an unknown quantity in real life, proved that she was not a myth after all by suddenly and unceremoniously granting Sahwah's wish.
Thanks to Sahwah's taking her in hand she emerged from the experience without even a sign of a cold. With heroic patience and courage she began again the weary task of typing and burning all the pages of Professor Green's book and finished it this time without mishap. The money she received for it all went into the family purse. Not a cent did she spend on herself.
Sahwah's soul was being strangely stirred in many ways these last few days. A queer restlessness had taken possession of her, totally foreign to her old tranquil, composed state of mind.
Her eyes met Sahwah's with candid directness, her laughter was spontaneous and not forced; she was neither paler than usual nor more flushed. How perfectly absurd to connect this happy-hearted girl with anything suspicious!
However, they were game and promised to shout for her with all their might. The Scout who had taken Sahwah's entry that day under the tree came strolling over, curious to see what kind of a kite she had produced. "Ho, ho!" he scoffed. "What kind of a kite do you call that? That's nothing but a paper doll. That's just the kind of a kite you'd expect a girl to make.
Gladys felt the release of the trailer, but pretended that she knew nothing about it, and drove ahead at full speed, and traveling in a circle, came up behind the marooned voyagers and surprised them with a hearty laugh. This time she towed them back to Sahwah's house, where they drank hot cocoa to warm themselves up, and all declared they had never had such fun in their lives.
"They have always been in the past years," answered Sahwah's mother, "and I have bought my potatoes from this man for the last six winters." "How many would it take for a family of four?" asked Migwan. "About five bushels," answered Mrs. Brewster. "All right," said Migwan to the man; "bring five bushels over to this address."
We stopped and picked it up. "It's a veil just like ours, and a hat," said Nyoda. "It's Sahwah's veil and hat!" she exclaimed, looking in the hatband where Sahwah's name was written. Then she discovered something tied in the veil. It was Sahwah's address book and on the first page was scrawled a message: "To those interested: Picked up by tourists. On way to Carrie Wentworth Inn, Chicago.
Suddenly, without noise or warning, two figures appeared on the stage, coming on through the back entrance. Sahwah's heart beat joyfully. Here was some one to look over the scenery again and if she could only attract their attention they would liberate her. She made a desperate effort and wrenched her mouth open to call, only to get it full of fuzzy cotton wool that nearly choked her.
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