"Why not, just for the summer? They crowd into far more uncomfortable
places, I'm sure. I can imagine this room with pretty rugs and cane
chairs, and a hammock slung across the alcove, and a pinebough ablaze in
the fireplace, being a most attractive nook some cool summer evening,
after a long day of blue-fishing; and there's one nice bedroom besides
the loft."
Sara shook her head dubiously.
"I wish some one would take it, but I'm afraid it will have to stay
closed and useless. Molly, Molly! Do watch the baby; he's just starting
for the best glass sugar-bowl with the hammer, and I think he has some
tacks in his mouth."
Baby having been made to disgorge his too sharp repast, the talk ran on
to other things, Miss Prue giving much valuable advice on "How to live
on ten dollars a week;" but the sage maxims were so interspersed with
hammerings, hunts, and hurry, that I fear much of their value was lost
on Sara.
It happened to be a fair day when they left for the new home, and it
seemed as if all Killamet turned out to bid them God-speed. They ate
their last dinner with faithful Miss Prue, then, accompanied by a goodly
little procession, walked down to the beach, where Jasper Norris, who
had somehow happened home a few days before, was waiting with his tidy
little wherry to row them across the bay to Norcross, where they would
reach the railroad, their goods having been sent by wagon a day or two
before.
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