. Kit of Greenacre farm . re wasno glimpse or hint of the town to be seen downhere. Not even a boat house, only one long a mile and a half from shore was a light-ship, and farther out a white steamer showed inperfect outline against the blueness of the morn-ing sky. Kit followed Sandys lead, hardly realizingthe distance she was covering, until he suddenlydisappeared behind a nosing headland. Whenshe rounded it, she saw a cottage built close underthe shelter of the bluff. The sand drifted likesnow half-way up to its windows. It had beenpainted red once, but now its old clapboards wer
. Kit of Greenacre farm . re wasno glimpse or hint of the town to be seen downhere. Not even a boat house, only one long a mile and a half from shore was a light-ship, and farther out a white steamer showed inperfect outline against the blueness of the morn-ing sky. Kit followed Sandys lead, hardly realizingthe distance she was covering, until he suddenlydisappeared behind a nosing headland. Whenshe rounded it, she saw a cottage built close underthe shelter of the bluff. The sand drifted likesnow half-way up to its windows. It had beenpainted red once, but now its old clapboards werethe color of sorrel, and weather-beaten and wave-washed like the boulders. There were fish netsdrying on tall staples driven in behind a coupleof overturned rowboats, and at that first glimpseit seemed to her as if there were children every-where. Four stalwart boys from fourteen toeighteen worked over the nets, mending them;around the back door there were four or fivemore, and sitting in the sunlight in a low rocking- Y. KIT CALLED GOOD-MORNING ALL SANDYS FAULT 91 chair was an old woman as picturesque as someancient sibyl. Sandy seemed to greet them as old acquaint-ances, so Kit called good-morning in good oldYankee fashion. The boys eyed her, somewhataskance, and all of the children scurried like aflock of startled chickens as she came up theboardwalk to the kitchen door, but the old grand-mother kept serenely on paring potatoes, calm-eyed and unembarrassed. How do you do? said Kit, smilingly. ImDean PeaboJys grandniece. I just came westyesterday, and Sandy brought me here this morn-ing. I didnt know where he was going, but heseemed to know the wav. «/ The old womans brown eves followed the •/ movement of the dog. He ver fine, that dog, she said, deliberately. He come ver often. I know him since he isun petit chien, ver small pup—so beeg. Shemeasured with her hand from the ground. Do you know the Dean? Kit asked, sittingdown on the doorstep beside her. He lives up 92 KI
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