"Ah," said she, with eyes still fixed upon the spot whence had gleamed
the meteor, "p'rhaps it was an angel flying down to me! I won't be
afraid, 'cause I know God will take care of me." Drawing the small
plaid shawl from her shoulders, she spread it over herself like a
blanket; sparing a corner for Fudge, however, who stationed himself
upon it, prepared to ward off all dangers from his charge. And thus
she fell asleep, cheered by the presence and warmed by the breath of
the faithful little dog, her sole protector, humanly speaking, in that
lonely wilderness.
* * * * *
During the long night, while the searching party was scouring the
country, Mrs. Prentiss remained at home, keeping a bright light in the
window, a fire on the kitchen hearth, the kettle on the crane, and
everything ready to gladden and revive her darling in case, as she
persisted in hoping, the dear little rover should, with the aid of
fudge, find her way back of her own accord. How many times she started
up, thinking she heard the patter of childish feet! How many times she
rushed to the door at some sound which to her eager heart seemed like a
cry of "Mother!" But Joan, who now kept as close to her as Tilderee
was accustomed to do, would murmur sadly, after they had listened a
while: "It is only the wind or the call of a bird.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158