. Mildred's inheritance; Just her way; Ann's own way; . seethem off. Tuck the lap-robe around you well, shecalled. If I had known it was so cold, Idhave gotten out your hoods instead of thosesunbonnets. It really begins to feel as if win-ter is on the way. It was a dull gray day with a hint of snowin the air. Several flakes fell before theyreached the Grayson farm, and Ann pulledaside the lap-robe more than once to peepat the light green shoes with secret misgivingsas to^their appropriateness. The wool stock-ings made them such a tight fit that theypinched considerably, but the pinching wasmor
. Mildred's inheritance; Just her way; Ann's own way; . seethem off. Tuck the lap-robe around you well, shecalled. If I had known it was so cold, Idhave gotten out your hoods instead of thosesunbonnets. It really begins to feel as if win-ter is on the way. It was a dull gray day with a hint of snowin the air. Several flakes fell before theyreached the Grayson farm, and Ann pulledaside the lap-robe more than once to peepat the light green shoes with secret misgivingsas to^their appropriateness. The wool stock-ings made them such a tight fit that theypinched considerably, but the pinching wasmore than compensated for by the shapelyappearance of her trim little feet. Besidesthere was a vast amount of satisfaction to thewilful child in the mere knowledge that she washaving her own way. Under ordinary circumstances Ann wouldhave looked back at that afternoon as one ofthe merriest of her life. She loved the woodslike an Indian, and usually was the leadingspirit in such exploits as they ventured on thatday. They were off to the woods with baskets. ANN FOLLOWED GINGERLY IN THEIR WAKE. ANNS OWN WAY 71 and pails as soon as they had all for once the late wild grapes hung theirtempting bunches overhead in vain. The per-simmons, frost-sweetened and brown, lay underthe trees unsought by Anns nimble fingers,and the nuts pattered down on the dead leavesunheeded. While the other children raceddown the hills and whooped through the frostyhollows, Ann followed gingerly in their wake,picking her way as best she could through therustling leaves and across the slippery logs thatbridged the little brooks. It was too cold tosit down. She was obliged to keep stirring;so all that miserable afternoon she tagged afterthe others, painfully conscious of her fine shoes,and a slave to the task of keeping themclean. Hi! Ann, whats the matter? called oneof the boys as he noticed her mincing alongat the tail-end of the procession instead ofgallantly leading the charge as usual. Thenhis
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Keywords: ., bookauthorjohnston, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookyear1910
