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He woke early the next morning. This was rare for him; he usually slept like a bear in midwinter. Perhaps the creaking of the windmill all through the night made his slumber light. Another noise had disturbed him, the sewing machine. Its whirr had come up to him from the open window of the living-room. He knew mother and sister were sewing hard, that on the morrow the poor little stranger might be suitably clad. He had brought upon them this extra work! And this was only the beginning. If the child’s mother was not found they must buy clothes as well as food; and this would take a lot of his sister’s money.,Moses and Betty were left to mind house, the admonishings of Mrs. Wopp being seasoned with picturesque if carelessly applied texts. The envious might hurl hisses, but Moses and Betty were invulnerable to all such assaults upon their anticipations of the day’s freedom with its already planned joys.,“I’ve never worked,” May Nell said reminiscently; “but there’s one hard thing I’ve done—I’ve kept very still when mama has her headaches.”,The pictures that followed were of fairies and sprites irresistible to childish minds.,Again he patted her shoulder, and this time his voice was more kind. “You’re a brave little girl, and if I was your dad I’d be dead stuck on you. Just you don’t be afraid. I’ll bring your supper by and by.”,“Just in time, I reckon,” the Sheriff said[219] facetiously; “pull up that chest and come along to our party.”,“Thank you Mr. Newman, you’re a prince.”,“Well, the Prince will see that the glass slipper’s tied fast. He’s got no ‘Ho, minions!’ to hunt for you if you turn Cinderella again.” He stooped and fastened her tie.,Pat Bliggin’s mind was undoubtedly wandering, so a drastic question was in order.,He went out. May Nell stared after him, dazed and trembling. When the key turned in the lock she looked around wildly; ran to the window and tried it. It was nailed down. For a second she stood quite still, gazing straight before her. Then the horror of her plight swept over her; she threw herself on the bed, a crumpled little heap, buried her face in the pillow, and sobbed piteously.,Off they bounded, side by side, through the fragrant spring evening. The red of the western sky touched to brighter rosiness their glowing cheeks, tinted Jean’s wind-blown hair with gold. As they neared the town she shot ahead in a last ambitious spurt, wheeled and faced him as he came up.,“Of course I am,” he replied promptly, with a squeeze of her hand that made her wince. “At first I was scared; I thought you must be a fairy.”.