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Hill, Grace Livingston, 1865-1947

"The Girl from Montana"


Elizabeth felt better after her meal, and offered to help, but the
grandmother would not hear to her lifting a finger.
"You must rest first," she said. "It beats me how you ever got here. I'd
sooner crawl on me hands and knees than ride a great, scary horse."
Elizabeth sprang to her feet.
"The horse!" she said. "Poor fellow! He needs something to eat worse than
I did. He hasn't had a bite of grass all this morning. There was nothing
but hard roads and pavements. The grass is all brown, anyway, now. I found
some cornstalks by the road, and once a man dropped a big bundle of hay
out of his load. If it hadn't been for Robin, I'd never have got here; and
here I've sat enjoying my breakfast, and Robin out there hungry!"
"Fer the land sakes!" said the grandmother, taking her arms out of the
suds and looked troubled. "Poor fellow! What would he like? I haven't got
any hay, but there's some mashed potatoes left, and what is there? Why,
there's some excelsior the lamp-shade come packed in. You don't suppose
he'd think it was hay, do you? No, I guess it wouldn't taste very good."
"Where can I put him, grandmother?"
"Fer the land sakes! I don't know," said the grandmother, looking around
the room in alarm. "We haven't any place fer horses. Perhaps you might get
him into the back yard fer a while till we think what to do. There's a
stable, but they charge high to board horses. Lizzie knows one of the
fellers that works there.


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