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?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"

Sir Paul had mounted the "charger," and was urging him on at his
highest speed, while Sir Alan came dashing toward us on his broomstick,
thrashing his steed without mercy, and shouting, "Gee up, horsie,
_g-e-e_ up!" at the top of his voice.
At this juncture the door opened, and in stepped nurse. "Lors-a-me!
Bedlam let loose!" she exclaimed, putting up her hands and looking as
surprised as if this noisy state of things were not of daily occurrence.
"Master Felix, your pa'd like to see you 'bout some referumces,--or
something like that. Come, children, it's time to get ready for your
dinner. Oh, come now,--I ain't got no time to waste; to-morrow you c'n
get the doctor--come!"
As I sat up and took hold of the arms of the rocker, as a preliminary to
rising, Nannie said, coaxingly: "Mayn't I go down and explain to papa
about those references? You could tell me, you know, Fee. Then you could
go to your room and lie down for a little while before dinner,--you look
so tired."
"I _am_ tired," I answered slowly, "awfully tired. And I really don't
know why I should feel so. I've not done any more or as much as usual
to-day. No, Nan, I think I'll go down; but first I'll get ready for
dinner, and that will spare another trip up and down the stairs.


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