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قراءة كتاب The Little Grey House

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The Little Grey House

The Little Grey House

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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THE LITTLE GREY HOUSE


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BY THE SAME AUTHOR

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THE
LITTLE GREY HOUSE

BY

MARION AMES TAGGART

FRONTISPIECE BY ETHEL FRANKLIN BETTS

NEW YORK
McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.
MCMIV


Copyright, 1904, by
McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.

Published, October, 1904


TO

ANNA WENTWORTH HECKER


CONTENTS


PAGE
CHAPTER I. Its Children     3
CHAPTER II. Its Neighbors   17
CHAPTER III. Its Master   33
CHAPTER IV. Its Relatives   48
CHAPTER V. Its Blithe Days   64
CHAPTER VI. Its Hard Days   80
CHAPTER VII. Its Menace   98
CHAPTER VIII. Its Makeshifts 115
CHAPTER IX. Its Burden 132
CHAPTER X. Its Possibilities 149
CHAPTER XI. Its Hope 166
CHAPTER XII. Its Tragic Side 181
CHAPTER XIII. Its Danger 196
CHAPTER XIV. Its Brave Daughter 208
CHAPTER XV. Its Rescue 224
CHAPTER XVI. Its Liberation 240
CHAPTER XVII. Its Sunshine 254

THE LITTLE GREY HOUSE


CHAPTER ONE
ITS CHILDREN

"I am going to cut that grass—try to cut it, I mean—before I'm an hour older," said Roberta Grey, drawing on an old pair of her father's dog-skin gloves with a do-or-die-in-the-attempt air that was at once inspiring and convincing. "This whole place looks like an illustrated edition of 'How Plants Grow'—Grey. We've got to cut the grass or put up a sign: To Find the House Walk Northward Through the Prairie. Signed, Sylvester Grey. Will you help, Wythie and Prue?"

Oswyth, the eldest daughter, a year the senior of sixteen-year-old Roberta, looked up with her pleasant smile. "Help walk northward through the prairie, help find the house, or help cut the grass, Rob?" she asked.

"Help cut the grass, and the rest won't be necessary," laughed Rob. "Come on! I've borrowed Aunt Azraella's lawn-mower, though I truly believe I might as well have borrowed the cheese-scoop—that grass is too old and tough to bow down to a mere lawn-mower."

Prue, being but fourteen, jumped up with alacrity to accept Rob's invitation, but Oswyth laid down her sewing and arose with a reluctant sigh—she was not fond of violent exercise, and the afternoon sun was still warm.

The three girls stood a few moments on the low door-step, letting the breeze pleasantly flutter their gingham dresses and lift their ribbons, before setting to their difficult task. The same breeze blew the tall grass which Roberta longed to lay low in undulating ripples like those in the blue and pink fabrics, which drifted into the picture like cornflowers and poppies. The feathery sprays of the millet and red-top, the wands of the timothy were so pretty as they bowed and swayed that, although

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