I'm expecting something to
happen, you know. Father, he didn't come either; for the matter of that,
he hasn't come yet; and mother, she was awful tired, and hadn't had no
dinner to speak of, and she just broke down and took on awful. Mother
don't often cry, and it's good she don't, for she just goes into it with
all her might when the time comes. It wasn't about father--she's used to
him, you know, and don't expect nothing else; but Dirk drives her wild
with what may happen to him. I was worried about him, too, but I was mad
at him; it seemed too awful mean in him to stay away and scare mother.
At last I got her to go to bed, and she was all tuckered out, and went
to sleep.
"Then I wrapped myself in the quilt and sat down to wait; but I got
asleep, and I dreamed I saw _her_; she had wings to each side of
her, and she flew over the tops of all those houses and made them turn
white like the snow looks when it is coming down before it drops into
the gutters. Wasn't that queer? Well, some noise woke me up. I was
sitting flat on the floor by mother, and I sat up straight all of a
tremble. And there was the old stool, and the brown pitcher on it,
half-full of water, and this wonderful thing stood in it looking at me.
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