America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. 75 “Lucy’s going to Prom with John Diedermayer?” Cathy nodded emphatically. She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. Here he was preparing to leap over the hedge into the fields on the left, when he was intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts, rode up and struck at him with the butt-ends of their heavy riding-whips. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing.
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