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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Michael O'Halloran"

He scarcely could realize that there were places in the world
where families lived alone like this. He tried to think how he would feel
if he belonged there. When he reached the place where he saw Lily on a
comfort under a big bloom-laden pear tree, his throat grew hard, his eyes
dry and his feet heavy. Then the screen to the front door swung back as a
smiling woman in a tidy gingham dress came through and stood awaiting
Mickey.
"I just told Peter when he came back alone, I bet a penny you'd got off at
the wrong stop!" she cried. "I'm so glad you found your way by yourself.
But you must be tired and hot walking. Come right in and have a glass of
milk, then strip your feet and I'll ring for Junior."
For one second Mickey was dazed. The next, he knew what it must mean.
These people were the kind whom God had made so big and generous they
divided home and summer with tenement children from the big city thirty
miles away. Some boy was coming for a week, maybe, into what exactly
filled Mickey's idea of Heaven, but he was not the boy.


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