Jane called her mother, and they condoled with Ann Lizy. Ann Lizy sat in
one of Mrs. Baxter's rush-bottomed chairs and began to cry.
"Where did you lose it?" Mrs. Baxter asked. "Don't cry, Ann Lizy, maybe
we can find it."
"I s'pose I--lost it comin'," sobbed Ann Lizy.
"Well, I'll tell you what 't is," said Mrs. Baxter; "you and Jane had
better run up the road a piece, and likely as not you'll find it; and
I'll have tea all ready when you come home. Don't feel so bad, child,
you'll find it, right where you dropped it."
But Ann Lizy and Jane, searching carefully along the road, did not find
the patchwork where it had been dropped. "Maybe it's blown away,"
suggested Jane, although there was hardly wind enough that afternoon to
stir a feather. And the two little girls climbed over the stone-walls
and searched in the fields, but they did not find the patchwork. Then
another mishap befell Ann Lizy. She tore a three-cornered place in her
best muslin delaine, getting over the wall. When she saw that she felt
as if she were in a dreadful dream. "Oh, what will grandma say!" she
wailed.
"Maybe she won't scold," said Jane, consolingly.
"Yes, she will. Oh dear!"
The two little girls went dolefully home to tea. There were hot biscuits
and honey and tarts and short gingerbread and custards, but Ann Lizy did
not feel hungry. Mrs. Baxter tried to comfort her; she really saw not
much to mourn over, except the rent in the best dress, as four squares
of patchwork could easily be replaced; she did not see the true
inwardness of the case.
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