"AnnieHamiltonDonnell-RebeccaMary" - читать интересную книгу автора (Donnell Annie Hamilton)

eat with Aunt Olivia's little fluffy biscuits. How very fond
Rebecca Mary was of honey!

Aunt Olivia stood in the kitchen doorway and rang the supper bell in
long, steady clangs just as usual. But no one responded just as
usual, and by the token she knew Rebecca Mary had not taken the
other stitch that lay between her and supper.

"She's a Plummer," sighed Aunt Olivia, inwardly, unrealizing her own
Plummership, as little Rebecca Mary had unrealized hers. Each
recognized only the other's. The pity that both must be Plummers!

Rebecca Mary stayed out of doors until bedtime. She made but one
confidant.

"I've done it, Thomas Jefferson," she said, sadly. "You ought to be
sorry for me, because if you hadn't crowed I shouldn't have sewed
the hundred and oneth. But you're not really to BLAME," she added,
hastily, mindful of Thomas Jefferson's feelings. "I should have
done it sometime if you hadn't crowed. I knew it was coming.
I suppose now I shall have to starve. You'd think it was pretty
hard to starve, I guess, Thomas Jefferson."

Thomas Jefferson made certain gloomy responses in his throat to the
effect that he was always starving; that any contributions on the
spot in the way of corn kernels, wheat grains, angleworms--any
little delicacies of the kind--would be welcome. And Rebecca Mary,
understanding, led the way to the corn bin. In the dark hours that
followed, the intimacy between the great white rooster and the
little white girl took on tenderer tones.

At breakfast next morning--at dinner time--at supper--Rebecca Mary
absented herself from the house. Aunt Olivia set on the meals
regularly and waited with tightening heartstrings. It did not seem
to occur to her to eat her own portions. She tasted no morsel of
all the dainties she got together wistfully. At nightfall the
second day she began to feel real alarm. She put on her bonnet and
went to the minister's. He was rather a new minister, and the
Plummers had always required a good deal of time to make
acquaintance. But in the present stress of her need Aunt Olivia
did not stop to think of that.

"You must come over and--and do something," she said, at the
conclusion of her strange little story. "It seems to me it's time
for the minister to step in."

"What can I do, Miss Plummer?" the embarrassed young man ejaculated,
with a feeling of helplessness.

"Talk to her," groaned Aunt Olivia, in her agony. "Tell her what