By Betty MacDonald
Relates the thrill and frustrations of existence on a chook farm within the mountains of Washington.
summary: Relates the fun and frustrations of existence on a bird farm within the mountains of Washington
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Sausage books,” I said. ” Mother explained that I had a different teacher from Mary’s and that she probably didn’t use sausage books. I refused to be comforted. School had come to mean but one thing to me. A sausage book of my very own filled with secret things that I’d let Cleve but not Mary see. I bawled all afternoon and finally Mother, in desperation, went downtown and bought me a new Lightning Glider sled. When Mary came home from school, I was out in the back yard, a steep slope about a hundred feet long, reaching from a woodshed and toolhouse at the very back of the lot down to a small level place behind the house, still red-eyed and snuffling, coasting down our little hill on my new sled.
That girl ought to be on the stage,” Mrs. Watson, our cleaning woman, said, the first time she heard Mary do “Lasca,” and I thought so too. I thought all her recitations were absolutely marvelous and was delirious with happiness when she offered to coach me. After studying me from every angle, Mary decided that I was the “cute” type. Why she made such a decision I’ll never know because at the time I was painfully thin, pale green, wore a round comb and had a mouth filled with gold braces.
Then Mary and Marjorie said they would give him twenty-five cents of the gate receipts and that clinched things. Twenty-five cents would buy thirty pieces of “pick” candy (penny candy), six picks for a nickel, and we’d do anything for it. ” Mary announced in a loud voice. ” She pointed dramatically to Cleve, who had crawled up and was standing on one of the folded-back cellar doors, clutching the twenty-five cents and looking suspiciously first at Mary and then at the narrow two-by-four. Mary’s sudden inspiration about the black hole full of live snakes hadn’t helped his courage any.