THE APPLE TREE GIRL
ter past four; and as Charlotte walked up the street to her aunt's house, it gave her a pleasant sense of content to see the people whom she knew so well.
"I wonder what they'll say about the championship," she thought. "Here comes Mr. Evans. I wonder if he'll want to stop."
But Mr. Evans, the ice man, passed right on with a friendly "Hello Charlotte."
"And here comes Deacon Kingsley, as busy as ever," she thought. "Surely he'll say something."
But all the busy deacon had to say was a busy "How do you do, Charlotte?"
She began to think it over. "I suppose it's because they take me as a matter of course," she said to herself, "just the same as I take them. For all I know, Mr. Evans may be the best fox hunter in Windham County, and Deacon Kingsley, the champion checker
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