Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1885-02-12

had an orange to eat on the way, and We
saved them to eat at the mill, because We
like to make boats out of the peel. and
see them 90 over the dam. l put my or
ange in a little basket where she had
balls of yarn, and left it for her to find
and don't you think, aunt ElinOr, she
s'posed it was mistake when she found
it, and saved it up till Mary Ellen came
with some more rags and sent 1t back to
me. By that time it was all moldy In
side, SO nobody could eat it; but she told
Mary Ellen she'd enjoyed the smell of i,
in the house. 1t made her think of once
when she was a little girl and her father
had brought her home an orange when he
came back from peddling tin-ware. Aunt
Lib sort of shifted, the way she does when
she thinks things are silly; but the very
next time she took rags to the carpet
woman she carried her basket with or
anges in it, and lemons.
Well, next thing we went back to the
mill and watched them grinding, and
then we went outside, under tree to eat
Jim's orange. He divided, and we
made four boats out Cf the peel; two
masters, with leaves for sails. You take
straw and run it through leaf, this
way, and stick the other end in the
orange peel, and it makes lovely boat.
Both OF Jim's went over the dam, but
mine stopped; and when We threw stones
to start them, they both tipped over.
David said Mary Ellen would call that q
bad sign for me, and he advised me to
keep away from the mill pond, for fear
it might come true. So We got in the
wagon and waited; and when the -four
was ready David drove home as fast as
he could, because there was going to be
a thunderstorm. 1t just began to spat-
to the sheepbarn, and saw aunt Lib on
the porch looking for us.
David said, Here we are, all safe and
sound, in spite of Mary Ellens sigL. Jim
jumped off to open the big gate, and just
then there came an awful zigzagy light
ming, as if the clouds would melt up The
grey horse jumped forward before the
gate was quite open; the wheel bumped
against the post smashed all to pieces,
and the wagon tipped slantlng, and slid
me onto the ground. l don't remember
the next things at all; but Jim says aunt
Lib ran right out into the pour, and
picked me up, and carried me into grand
mas room, and laid me on the lounge
First thing l do remember, was funny
kind OF smell In my nose; and there was
grandma tanning me with her best tur-
key-feather fan, and the end OF the feath-
ers all burned off. All the folks were
there, and Jim was crying, and 80 was
Mary Ellen.
/ guessed it didn't hurt me much, and
grandpa said, she's all right now; aren't
you, kathy? But when tried to sit up,
we found my arm was broken. That
made Mary Ellen cry worse than ever,
wasn't my back or my head. If it was
my back, s'pose might be crooked,
like the carpet-wOman; or it it was my
head, might be an idiot, and that is
worse than anything-only, if was an
idiot l shouldn't know 1t, and that's
some comfort. Grandma says we ought
to be more thankful for the things that
don't happen us, and say so too. David
had to 90 to Darbyville in all the rain to
get the doctor to mend my arm, and he
looked 50 mis'able / felt sorry for him.
Mary Ellen said she didn't pity him a
mite, because it was all his fault, coming
back after he started. Grandma said 1t
was David's fault, too, because he ought
to have got the wheel fixed, when he
knew it was ready to break down the
first hard knock.
The doctor isn't very pleasant man,
but guess most any body would get over
being pleasant, having to come five miles
in the dark when 1t was raining. l
thought he was making fun Of me, cause
he called it neat job, and asked Aunt
Lib why she didn't set it herself, as she
did the black turkeys leg. Then he
pulled and jerked, and just about killed
me, and kept looking all the time as if
he didn't care bit, but may be he was
sorry inside. The worst about broken
bones is they grow up SO slow; but after
| could 60 outdoors l didn't mind very
much. Jane Ann Cutler brought over
fairy books, and read me the rest of the
story l wanted to know, but it didn't
end nice after all. l made up an end to
it myself after she took her book away,
and believe my way was the best. The
beginning was lovely, and you'd s'posed
it was truly fairies; and then it turned
into dream, and was only moral to
show how bad it was to be a put-offer.
hate fairy stories that turn into morals
Fairy stories are some like those pretty
glass plums and cherries that we hang
on the Christmas tree. You know they
are just glass, but you don't want any
body to explain 'em, because all the fun
is in supposing. On, Aunt Ellinor! you
haven't told me if you really think it
was sign.