He climbed cat-like to the crest again, slid through the brush, dashed across bare spots, jumped from rocks that jutted in his way, struck stones but righted himself before falling, truly “hit only the high places,” as he breathlessly told the girls waiting for him at Ellen’s Isle.,
A certain wide lawn, starred with white clover and daisies came unwelcome to his mind. He ought that moment to be chopping off clover tops.,
“Here’s Mis’ Mifsud an’ St. Elmo comin’ in the buckboard,” he announced..
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