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Catherwood, Mary Hartwell, 1847-1902

"Old Caravan Days"

Grandma Padgett felt impatient at any delay.
"I don't think they want water, Zene," said she.
"They'd better cool their mouths, marm." he said. But still he
fingered the check reins, uncertain how to state what had sent him
forward.
"Seems like I heard somebody laugh, marm," said Zene.
"Well, suppose you did," said Grandma Padgett. "The whole world
won't mourn just because we're in trouble."
"But it sounded like Corinne," said Zene uncertainly.
Grandma Padgett's glasses glared upon him.
"You'd' be more apt to hear her crying," she exclaimed. "When did
you hear it?"
"Just now. I jumped right off the load."
Hickory and Henry, anxious to taste the creek, would have moved
forward, but were checked by both pairs of hands.
"What direction?"
"I don't feel certain, marm," said Zene, "but it come like it was
from that way through the woods."
Grandma Padgett stretched her neck out of the carriage toward the
right.
"Is that a sled track?" she inquired. "It's gittin' so dim I can't
see.".
Zene said there was a sled track, pointing out what looked like a
double footpath with a growth of grass and shrubs along the centre.
"We'll drive in that way," she at once decided, "and if we get
wedged among the trees, we'll have to get out the best way we can.


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