So Johnny Blossom dashed over the hill again. This was something worth hurrying for. When he came to Sandy Point, he saw the grandmother walking alone around the outside of the house, feeling her way as usual.,
As he surveyed the place in silent wonder, a sullen groan arose from beneath the spot where he stood. His blood ran cold at the sound, but silence returning, and continuing unbroken, he attributed his alarm to the illusion of a fancy, which terror had impregnated. He made another effort to force the door, when a groan was repeated more hollow, and more dreadful than the first. At this moment all his courage forsook him; he quitted the door, and hastened to the stair-case, which he ascended almost breathless with terror.,
“Such rough shaking, I don’t like. You must pick the apples.”.
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