Milford chronicle., 1925-03-13
FOURTH INSTALLMENT

The Livingstone Place was to all the
lPeakes, save Margaret, convenient
playground. But because the older
sister was touched with imagination, to
lher those roOds Of sacred ground were
like Kublai's garden, acres Of enchant-
lRent, of jewelled trees, of whispering
shadows. Being active in the legs, she
cook her dreams flying. Running
labout, yelling her young head off in
,frenzied games with the Livingstone
cousins, she had time to catch the
beauty of great weeping willows which
nodded like kings plumes over the
rusty iron sides of Victorian SWIM
ming pool; or to stare up into the
black tulip poplars which held frail cups
of green and orange to be filed from
mote-shot pools of sun; or, in rare
intervals of exhaustion, to plump her
self down on the sward and touch the
pure little faces of star-Of-Be Bethlehem or
the innocent azure ones Of blue-eyed-
grass.
These swift appreciations came to
the small girl like secrets, german to
modesty. Through dense LEAKAGE she
would glimpse patch Of gray brick, of
iron crowned Mansard roof, Of high
shouldered windows; whiski she had
waved the wand. Men in queer armor
came trooping down the drive. From
q loop hole in the tower slender,
jewelled hand appeared and fingered
Just long enough to allow a lacy hand
ierchief to fiutter down, down.
The Livingstone children fancied
billygoats. They kept barn full of
them. Billygoats in every stage of
horn-and-hair development. With the
aid of Rol and JEFF Carter and the whole
resident tribe, including several anoma-
lOus negroes, they would torture these
animals into harness, hitch them to
wagons and race excitedly up and down
the drives. The sport amused Mar
garet until the day she discovered that
Rol always wanted to be Ben Hur.
Then she fell out of her chariot and did
the very thing he most deteSted.
She went over to one of the stone
gate posts, climbed it by dint of con-
siderable exercise and personal ex-
posure, and got herself astride the
rampaging, tail-raised iron lion which
was planted there to howl defiance
against trespassers.
Observe her upon this sweet Spring
morning as she rides bareback, quite
unconscious of her ferociOus mount. A
young lady of seven, taWny hair blow
Ing across her eyes, she is a spirited,
laughing cub of the old iron beast.
Then she has an ideal 1t has never
been tried, but whyn OF?
"Oh Roll Rawli Look quickl"
That cry from midair calls Roland
Peake from the tree-trunk against
which his gOat-cart has just cast a
wheel. Instantly his eyes grow round
with disapproval. Miss Margaret
Livingstone Peake, her long legs bent
like nippers, her arms teetering like
the wings of a fledgling bird, is showing
her ruffled drawers.
Margaret Peake, you come down
from therer' commands the angered
brother.
"You said couldn't do it. Look.
can"
The law Of gravitation spoils her
little human boast. She loses her
balance, sinks down on all fourS and
saves herself by lucky clutch at the
monsters unyielding name. She re-
sumes her seat in a posture more seem
ly, less revealing.
''I'H have to tell Grandmother this,
says Roland, frowning.
''Tattle talel''
"You get down from there"
Nobody can make me-" says
Margaret. Nobody does.
On a bench not far away Flora Lee
Peake is being ''read to" by old Linda
who doesn't know one letter from
another, but follows the text BY the
pictures. Flora Lees languid eyes are
On the crude illustrations of Sleeping
Beauty; during Margaret's adventure
sbe hasn't taken the trouble to look up.
'.What was on her gown Of rose violet
With swansdown'" asked Flora Lee
drawlingly.
"Dye-muns big ez ros- -burries'" I'M
provises the ever ready Linda.
"Read it from the book"
"Awn huh dress Nv rose v1let an
qwansdown was dye-muns big ez ros-
burries-" Linda reaches this point in
her mendacity when the child breaks In
never raising her sweet, lazy voice:
yesterday it was rubies big as
peanuts. Don't they ever have 1T the
Bame?"