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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"The Magic Egg and Other Stories"

Her eyes sparkled, her
cheeks were red, her mouth was partly opened, and it seemed to me
that I could almost see that her breath was hot.

"Is this your house?" she cried, the moment her eyes fell
upon me. "And what is it doing here?" I did not immediately
answer, I looked at the angry woman, and behind her I saw,
through the open door, the daughter crossing the hallway. It was
plain that she had decided to let me have it out with her mother
without interference. As briefly and as clearly as I could, I
explained what had happened.

"What is all that to me?" she screamed. "It doesn't matter
to me how your house got here. There have been storms ever since
the beginning of the world, and I never heard of any of them
taking a house into a person's back yard. You ought not to have
built your house where any such thing could happen. But all this
is nothing to me. I don't understand now how your house did get
here, and I don't want to understand it. All I want is for you
to take it away."

"I will do that, madam, just as soon as I can. You may be
very sure I will do that. But--"

"Can you do it now?" she asked. "Can you do it to-day? I
don't want a minute lost. I have not been outside to see what
damage has been done, but the first thing to do is to take your
house away."

"I am going to the town now, madam, to summon assistance."

Mrs. Carson made no answer, but she turned and walked to the
end of her porch.


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