Excerpt: ... at the front door. Taking her hands from the tub, she wiped them on her apron. "I wish folks wouldn't come on washing day!" she said in a tone of vexation. She went to the door and opened it. There was nobody there. "I thought somebody knocked," thought she, a little mystified. "Perhaps I was mistaken." She went back to her tub, and had no sooner got her hands in the suds than another knock was heard, this time on the back door. "I declare!" said she, in increased vexation, "There's another knock. I shan't get ...
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Excerpt: ... at the front door. Taking her hands from the tub, she wiped them on her apron. "I wish folks wouldn't come on washing day!" she said in a tone of vexation. She went to the door and opened it. There was nobody there. "I thought somebody knocked," thought she, a little mystified. "Perhaps I was mistaken." She went back to her tub, and had no sooner got her hands in the suds than another knock was heard, this time on the back door. "I declare!" said she, in increased vexation, "There's another knock. I shan't get through my washing to-day." Again Mrs. Mudge wiped her hands on her apron, and went to the door. There was nobody there. I need hardly say that it was Ben, who had knocked both times, and instantly dodged round the corner of the house. "It's some plaguy boy," said Mrs. Mudge, her eyes blazing with anger. "Oh, if I could only get hold of him!" "Don't you wish you could?" chuckled Ben to himself, as he caught a sly glimpse of the indignant woman. Meanwhile, Squire Newcome had walked along in his usual slow and dignified manner, until he had reached the front door of the Poorhouse, and knocked. "It's that plaguy boy again," said Mrs. Mudge, furiously. "I won't go this time, but if he knocks again, I'll fix him." She took a dipper of hot suds from the tub in which she had been washing, and crept carefully into the entry, taking up a station close to the front door. "I wonder if Mrs. Mudge heard me knock," thought Squire Newcome. "I should think she might. I believe I will knock again." This time he knocked with his cane. Rat-tat-tat sounded on the door. The echo had not died away, when the door was pulled suddenly open, and a dipper full of hot suds was dashed into the face of the astonished Squire, accompanied with, "Take that, you young scamp!" "Wh
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Add this copy of Paul Prescott's Charge to cart. $47.34, good condition, Sold by Bonita rated 4.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Newport Coast, CA, UNITED STATES, published 2002 by IndyPublish.
