Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. “And this is Mr. The ladder was now within reach. I've been hunting for this particular job for a thousand years!" She smiled a little sadly over this fine enthusiasm; for in her wisdom she had a clear perception where it would eventually end—in the veranda chair. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me.
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