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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Michael O'Halloran"

He sucked his
lungs full, then lifted his cap, shaking the hair from his forehead. He
stuffed the cap into his pocket, walking slowly along, intending to stop
at the nearest farmhouse to ask for water. But the first home was not to
Mickey's liking. He went on, passing another and another.
Then he came to land that attracted him. The fences were so straight. The
corners so clean where they were empty, so delightful where they were
filled with alder, wild plum, hawthorn; attractive locations for the birds
of the bushes that were field and orchard feeders. Then the barn and
outbuildings looked so neat and prosperous; grazing cattle in rank meadows
were so sleek; then a big white house began to peep from the screen of
vines, bushes and trees.
"Well if the water here gives you fever, it will anywhere," said Mickey,
and turning in at the open gate started up a walk having flower beds on
each side. There was a wide grassy lawn where the big trees scattered
around afforded almost complete shade. Mickey never had seen a home like
it closely.


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