Dorothy Dale in the West by Margaret Penrose

Author:Margaret Penrose [Penrose, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anboco
Published: 2017-01-18T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIV

“THE SNAKE IN THE GRASS”

“Goodness me, Doro! did you ever see so much out-of-doors before in all your life? Isn’t the world awfully big?”

Tavia was at the window of the large room in which the girls slept, on the second morning of their stay at the ranch-house and she had not begun to dress. This big world that she was looking out at, seemed just now deserted.

There were miles upon miles of rolling country to north, east, and south. In the early light this vast expanse of out-of-doors was colored in many hues—and the hues were ever changing. The wall of mountains to the west, which shut off their view seemed so near that Tavia declared she could run over to them before breakfast!

“You might before breakfast, but not before breakfast time!” laughed Dorothy. “Mr. Ledger says it’s two days’ ride on a good pony to that huge rock that we see standing up there so clearly.”

“I suppose so. Lost River is over that way, too. The foreman says that most of this rolling country we see belongs to the Hardin estate.”

“What a huge, huge place it is!” sighed Dorothy. “And what will we ever do with it all?”

“Ned wants to raise cattle on it,” chuckled Tavia, “but I believe Nat would rather raise mischief.”

Dorothy did not pay attention to this. She was gazing afar, and said very quietly:

“Mr. Ledger says the land is rich enough to raise anything.”

“Don’t you believe all your hear—and not more than half of what you see,” said her chum, philosophically. “Appearances are deceitful. That’s like the little girl who lost her penny.”

“What little girl?” demanded Dorothy, dreamily.

“Oh! it might have been any little girl—who was sharp,” chuckled Tavia. “At any rate a fine, handsome, benevolent old party comes along the street and finds the ragged little girl crying, and asked in that benevolent tone that goes with a white vest and gold-headed cane:

“‘What’s the matter, my little dear? What are you crying for?’

“‘I’ve lost my penny,’ says the kid.

“‘Never mind! never mind!’ says the old gentleman, reaching into his pocket. ‘Here is a penny,’ and he hands her one. The kid looks up at him and sees right through the game. Says she:

“‘Why! you horrid man! you had it all the time, didn’t you?’ And the next time,” chuckled Tavia, “he will go right along about his business and not try to play Santa Claus to young ladies to whom he has not been introduced.”

Dorothy laughed at her chum’s little story, and said: “I guess most appearances are deceitful. At least, Aunt Winnie says you mustn’t form an opinion upon mere looks—so that gives me a chance to point a moral, and adorn a tale.”

“There was Pat, who was a coal heaver, coming home and finding that the children had been using his Ancient Order of Hibernian regalia-hat to bring home coals in. ‘Mary Ann! Mary Ann! Phy do youse let thim kids do that?’ holding up the maltreated high hat. ‘I’ve told

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