ningenious though it waswas perforce abandoned. The road
now lay between thick pine woods with no dwelling in sight. It was
growing dusk and Rebecca was driving along the lonely way with a person
who was generally called Slippery Simpson. Not a thought of fear crossed
her mindsave the fear of bungling in her diplomacyand so losing the
flag. She knew Mr. Simpson welland a pleasanter man was seldom to be
met. She recalled an afternoon when he came home and surprised the
whole school playing the Revolutionary War in his helter-skelter dooryard
and the way in which he had joined the British forces and impersonated
General Burgoyne had greatly endeared him to her. The only difficulty
was to find proper words for her delicate missionforof courseif Mr.
Simpson's anger were arousedhe would politely push her out of the
wagon and drive away with the flag. Perhaps if she led the conversation in
the right direction an opportunity would present itself. Clearing her throat
nervouslyshe began:-- "Is it likely to be fair to-morrow?"
Guess so; clear as a bell. What's on foot; a picnic?
No; we're to have a grand flag-raising!
("That is she thought
if
we have any flag to raise!")
That so? Where?
The three vi
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