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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"A Girl of the Limberlost"

She stretched one hand to him.
"Hold tight, Hart!" she said. "I know they handle these things, but I
would quite as soon touch a snake."
Henderson clenched his teeth and held steadily. The moth had emerged
too recently to be troublesome. It climbed on her fingers quietly and
obligingly clung there without moving. So hand in hand they went down
the dark forest path. When they came to the avenue, the first person
they met paused with an ejaculation of wonder. The next stopped also,
and every one following. They could make little progress on account of
marvelling, interested people. A strange excitement took possession of
Edith. She began to feel proud of the moth.
"Do you know," she said to Henderson, "this is growing easier every
step. Its clinging is not disagreeable as I thought it would be. I feel
as if I were saving it, protecting it. I am proud that we are taking it
to be put into a collection or a book. It seems like doing a thing worth
while. Oh, Hart, I wish we could work together at something for which
people would care as they seem to for this. Hear what they say! See them
lift their little children to look at it!"
"Edith, if you don't stop," said Henderson, "I will take you in my arms
here on the avenue. You are adorable!"
"Don't you dare!" laughed Edith Carr. The colour rushed to her cheeks
and a new light leaped in her eyes.
"Oh, Hart!" she cried. "Let's work! Let's do something! That's the way
she makes people love her so.


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