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When Rose returned with ice-cold milk, gingerbread, and letters,
she found the reader of Emerson up in the tree, pelting and being
pelted with green apples as Jamie vainly endeavored to get at him.
The siege ended when Aunt Jessie appeared, and the rest of the
afternoon was spent in chat about home affairs.
Early the next morning Mac was off, and Rose went as far as the
old church with him.
"Shall you walk all the way?" she asked as he strode along beside
her in the dewy freshness of the young day.
"Only about twenty miles, then take car and whisk back to my
work," he answered, breaking a delicate fern for her.
"Are you never lonely?"
"Never. I take my best friends along, you know," and he gave a
slap to the pocket from which peeped the volume of Thoreau.
"I'm afraid you leave your very best behind you," said Rose,
alluding to the book he had lent her yesterday.
"I'm glad to share it with you. I have much of it here, and a little
goes a great way, as you will soon discover," he answered, tapping
"I hope the reading will do as much for me as it seems to have
done for you. I'm happy, but you are wise and good I want to be
"Read away, and digest it well, then write and tell me what you
think of it. Will you?" he asked as they paused where the four
"If you will answer. Shall you have time with all your other work?
Poetry I beg pardon medicine is very absorbing, you know,"
answered Rose mischievously, for just then, as he stood
bareheaded in the shadows of the leaves playing over his fine
forehead, she remembered the chat among the haycocks, and he
did not look at all like an M.D.
"I'll make time."
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