Dawn

Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman) Porter

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• Publié par: zawying
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 81
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dawn, by Eleanor
H. Porter #6 in our series by Eleanor H. Porter
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Title: DawnAuthor: Eleanor H. Porter
Release Date: June, 2004 [EBook #5874] [Yes, we
are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This
file was first posted on September 15, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
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[Illustration: "I MUST GO, NOW, I—MUST—GO!"]
DAWN
BY
ELEANOR H. PORTER
With Illustrations by Lucius Wolcott HitchcockBOSTON AND NEW YORK
1919
To My Friend
MRS. JAMES D. PARKERCONTENTS
I. THE GREAT TERROR
II. DAD
III. FOR JERRY AND NED
IV. SCHOOL
V. WAITING
VI. LIGHTS OUT
VII. SUSAN TO THE RESCUE
VIII. AUNT NETTIE MEETS HER MATCH
IX. SUSAN SPEAKS HER MIND
X. AND NETTIE COLEBROOK SPEAKS HERS
XI. NOT PATS BUT SCRATCHES
XII. CALLERS FOR "KEITHIE"XIII. FREE VERSE—A LA SUSAN
XIV. A SURPRISE ALL AROUND
XV. AGAIN SUSAN TAKES A HAND
XVI. THE WORRY OF IT
XVII. DANIEL BURTON TAKES THE PLUNGE
XVIII. "MISS STEWART"
XIX. A MATTER OF LETTERS
XX. WITH CHIN UP
XXI. THE LION
XXII. HOW COULD YOU, MAZIE?
XXIII. JOHN MCGUIRE
XXIV. AS SUSAN SAW IT
XXV. KEITH TO THE RESCUE
XXVI. MAZIE AGAINXXVII. FOR THE SAKE OF JOHN
XXVIII. THE WAY
XXIX. DOROTHY TRIES HER HAND
XXX. DANIEL BURTON'S "JOB"
XXXI. WHAT SUSAN DID NOT SEE
XXXII. THE KEY
XXXIII. AND ALL ON ACCOUNT OF SUSANILLUSTRATIONS
"I must go, now. I—must—go!"
Susan Betts talking with Mrs. McGuire over the
back-yard fence
"Want you? I always want you!"
"You've helped more—than you'll ever know"
He gave her almost no chance to say anything
herself
Keith's arm shot out and his hand fell, covering
hers
It was well that the Japanese screen on the front
piazza was downCHAPTER I
THE GREAT TERROR
It was on his fourteenth birthday that Keith Burton
discovered the Great Terror, though he did not
know it by that name until some days afterward.
He knew only, to his surprise and distress, that the
"Treasure Island," given to him by his father for a
birthday present, was printed in type so blurred
and poor that he could scarcely read it.
He said nothing, of course. In fact he shut the book
very hastily, with a quick, sidewise look, lest his
father should see and notice the imperfection of his
gift.
Poor father! He would feel so bad after he had
taken all that pains and spent all that money—and
for something not absolutely necessary, too! And
then to get cheated like that. For, of course, he
had been cheated—such horrid print that nobody
could read.
But it was only a day or two later that Keith found
some more horrid print. This time it was in his
father's weekly journal that came every Saturday
morning. He found it again that night in a
magazine, and yet again the next day in the
Sunday newspaper.Then, before he had evolved a satisfactory
explanation in his own mind of this phenomenon,
he heard Susan Betts talking with Mrs. McGuire
over the back-yard fence.
Susan Betts began the conversation. But that was
nothing strange:
Susan Betts always began the conversation.
"Have you heard about poor old Harrington?" she
demanded in what Keith called her "excitingest"
voice. Then, as was always the case when she
spoke in that voice, she plunged on without waiting
for a reply, as if fearful lest her bit of news fall from
the other pair of lips first. "Well, he's blind—stone
blind. He couldn't see a dollar bill—not if you shook
it right before his eyes."
"Sho! you don't say!" Mrs. McGuire dropped the
wet sheet back into the basket and came to the
fence on her side concernedly. "Now, ain't that too
bad?"
"Yes, ain't it? An' he so kind, an' now so blind! It
jest makes me sick." Susan whipped open the
twisted folds of a wet towel. Susan seldom stopped
her work to talk. "But I saw it comin' long ago. An'
he did, too, poor man!"
Mrs. McGuire lifted a bony hand to her face and
tucked a flying wisp of hair behind her right ear.
"Then if he saw it comin', why couldn't he do
somethin' to stop it?" she demanded.