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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Her Father's Daughter"

Sitting down, she
fitted the hat over her knee, picked up the dressing-table
scissors,and ripped off the band. In its place she fitted the
ribbon, pinning it securely and knotting the ends so that the
fringe reached her shoulder. Then she tried the hat again. The
result was blissfully satisfactory. The flash of orange, the
blaze of red, the gleam of green, were what she needed.
"Thank you very much, sister mine," she said, "I know you I would
be perfectly delighted to loan me this."

CHAPTER IX. One Hundred Per Cent Plus
Then she went downstairs and walked into the kitchen, prepared
for what she would see, by what she heard as she approached.
With Katy's apron tied around his waist, Donald Whiting was
occupied in squeezing orange, lemon, and pineapple juice over a
cake of ice in a big bowl, preparatory to the compounding of
Katy's most delicious brand of fruit punch. Without a word,
Linda stepped to the bread board and began slicing the bread and
building sandwiches, while Katy hurried her preparations for
filling the lunch box. A few minutes later Katy packed them in
the car, kissed Linda good-bye, and repeatedly cautioned Donald
to make her be careful.
As the car rolled down the driveway and into the street, Donald
looked appraisingly at the girl beside him.
"Is it the prevailing custom in Lilac Valley for young ladies to
kiss the cook?" inquired Donald laughingly.
"Now, you just hush," said Linda.


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