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Whitney, A. D. T. (Adeline Dutton Train), 1824-1906

"A Summer in Leslie Goldthwaite's Life."

Don't you see how the crest drops over on one
side, and that scrap of pine--which is really a huge gaunt thing a
hundred years old--slants out from it with just a tuft of green at the
very tip, like an old feather stuck in jauntily?"
"And the pine woods round the foot of the Cairn are lovely," said Maud.
"Oh!" cried Leslie, drawing a long breath, as if their spicy smell were
already about her, "there is nothing I delight in so as pines!"
"You'll have your fill to-morrow, then; for it's ten miles through
nothing else, and the road is like a carpet with the soft brown
needles."
"I hope Augusta won't be too tired to feel like going," said Elinor.
"We had better ask her soon, then; she is looking this way now. We ought
to go, Sin; we've got all our settling to do for the night."
"We'll walk over with you," said Sin Saxon. "Then we shall have done up
all the preliminaries nicely. We called on you--before you were off the
stage-coach; you've returned it; and now we'll pay up and leave you
owing us one. Come, Mr. Scherman; you'll be so far on your way to
Holden's, and perhaps inertia will carry you through.


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