Adams out for an hour or two,
before time for her usual call on Bridget. The day had long passed
when Job could be driven on the snow. Mrs. Adams had made one or
two attempts in previous winters, but the poor old animal had
toddled along so gingerly, slipping and sliding in every
direction, that she had resigned herself to the inevitable, and
put the old horse into winter quarters, much as she did her fan,
or her lace bonnet. Such a course had its disadvantages, too, for
the long time of standing in his stall stiffened up Job's
venerable joints to such an extent that it took him a large share
of the summer to regain the free use of his members. However,
Katharine had been very generous with Cob, and Mrs. Adams had had
a fair share of the sleighing. That day, though she was in the
midst of writing a letter when Katharine came, the gay little
sleigh and the lively mustang proved too attractive, and she had
thrown aside her pen and put on her fur coat without a moment's
hesitation.
Polly had gone down to the hospital that afternoon. Her cooking in
the morning had been so successful that she had begged to be
allowed to take a taste of it to Bridget; so, with a little basket
in one hand and a carefully arranged posy in the other, she had
gone away down the street, soon after lunch.
Pages:
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214