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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

Such expressions as "drownded,"--
"more'n a hundred of 'em--" reached her ears. Then came the words
--"de boss's work busted; ain't nobody seen him alive, so dey say."
For an instant she clutched the hand rail to keep her from
falling, then with a cry of terror she caught up an old cloth
cape, bound a hat to her head with a loose veil, and was
downstairs and into the street before the boy had reached the
curb.
"Yes, mum," he stammered, breathlessly, his eyes bulging from his
head,--"Oh! it's awful, mum! Don't know how many's drownded!
Everybody's shovelin' on de railroad dump, but dere ain't nothin'
kin save it, dey say!"
She raced on--across the long street, avoiding the puddles as best
she could; past the Hicks Hotel--no sign of Jack anywhere--past
the factory fence, until she reached the railroad, where she
stopped, gathered her bedraggled skirts in her hand and then sped
on over the cross-ties like a swallow, her little feet scarce
touching the cinders.
Jack had caught sight of the flying girl as she gained the
railroad and awaited her approach; he supposed she was the half-
crazed wife or daughter of some workman, bringing news of fresh
disaster, until she approached near enough for him to note the
shape and size of her boots and the way the hat and veil framed
her face.


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