"
In the carriage, aunt Corinne sitting by her mother, turned her head
at every fifth revolution of the wheels, to see how the strange
little girl fared.
"Do you s'pose she will ever be clear awake, Ma Padgett?" inquired,
aunt Corinne.
"She'll drowse it off by and by," replied Ma Padgett. "The rubbing I
give her this morning, and the stuff the Richmond doctor made her
swallow, will bring her out right."
"She's so pretty," mused aunt Corinne. "I'd like to have her hair if
she never wanted it any more."
"That's a covetous spirit. But it puts me in mind," said Grandma
Padgett, smiling, "of my sister Adeline and the way she took to get
doll's hair."
Aunt Corinne had often heard of sister Adeline and the doll's hair,
but she was glad to hear the brief tale told again in the pleasant
drowsing afternoon.
The Indiana landscape was beautiful in tones of green and stretches
of foliage. Whoever calls it monotonous has never watched its varying
complexions or the visible breath of Indian summer which never
departs from it at any season.
"Mother came in from meeting one day," said Grandma Padgett, "and
went into her bedroom and threw her shawl on the bed.
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