May, Carrie L. / 2008-08-02 00:00:00

"What a net-work of blue veins! They
make me shudder."
"He looks like a map, with rivers running all over him," said Charley.
"And how he shines. Ugh!"
Bertie held up the empty skin.
"He is as much beholden to dress as anybody that ever I saw, and he
wears the best of cloth too. Custom made, and no danger of a misfit.
None of your slop work about _that_ garment!"
"I hope you don't call that a garment," said Amy.
"It is a wardrobe in itself, hat and boots included. He did not carry a
'Saratoga' when he went journeying."
"Not much," said Charley.
"What is Jack doing now?"
He was detaching the little sacks that hold the musk, and he passed them
to Bertie, with the remark that they were worth as much as the critter's
hide.
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Charley, examining them curiously.
"Flora ought to be here. I suppose the 'fumery' belongs to her."
"To the little miss, is it?"
"Yes."
"There is scent enough in one of them bags," said Jack, "to drive the
whole family out of the house."
Bertie thought if that was the case, one would be better for Flora than
two; so he put one aside and gave the other to Jack, who carefully
wrapped it in paper and dropped it into his roomy pocket. The skin was
then stretched on a board to dry, and, after receiving hearty thanks for
his timely assistance, Jack left the garden, feeling much better
satisfied with himself than when he entered it. He felt that he had
shown his good will, and that the score against him was partially rubbed
out.
Read more


Parts: 1 2 3 4 5