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?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"

I felt
real discouraged. But just as soon as we turned into Twenty-third
Street, I could see that he'd struck something; for though he did a lot
of zigzagging over the pavement, he went ahead all the time: I tell you,
I was right at his tail at every turn. When we came opposite to where
Madison Avenue begins, if Major didn't cross over and strike off into
the park. Presently he gave a short, quick bark, and tore down a path. I
fairly _flew_ after him; up one path and down another we went like mad,
until we came to the fountain, and there, in the shade of a big tree,
just as cool and unconcerned as you please, were the runaways!
Kathie was seated off on one end of the bench, with her new parasol open
over her head, putting on all sorts of airs, while she gave orders to
Paul and Maedel, who were setting out some forlorn-looking fruit on the
other end of the bench; Alan was walking backward and forward dragging
his express waggon after him.
"Why, it's _Major_!" cried Alan, as the old doggie bounced on him and
licked his face.
"And _Jack_! hullo!" sang out Paul, turning round and seeing me.
"Oh, _lawks_!" exclaimed Maedel,--she'd caught that expression from
nurse, who always says it when she's frightened or excited,--and with
that she scrambled up on the bench and threw her arms round Kathie's
neck with such force that she knocked the parasol out of her hand, and
it slipped down over their heads and hid their faces.


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