"Of course! But
this sheet is going to be rather bunglesome. Ma, could you do anything
about it?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Harding. "Mary, you run up to the flannel chest, and get
Bobbie's little blue blanket."
Peter lifted the child to his broad breast, she slipped her arms around
his neck, and laid her head on his shoulder.
Bloom time was past, but bird time was not, while the leaves were still
freshly green and tender. Some of them reached to touch Peaches' gold hair
in passing. She was held high to see into nests and the bluebirds' hollow
in the apple tree. Peaches gripped Peter and cried: "Don't let it get my
feet!" when the old turkey gobbler came rasping, strutting, and spitting
at the party. Mickey pointed to Mary, who was unafraid, and Peaches'
clutch grew less frantic but she defended: "Well, I don't care! I bet if
she hadn't ever seen one before, an' then a big thing like that would come
right at her, tellin' plain it was goin' to eat her alive, it would scare
the livers out of her."
"Yes I guess it would," conceded Peter.
Pages:
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501