"Saturated with the spirit of youth, and written in the happy vein characteristic of Mrs. Abbott's previous stories and which is endearing the author with her growing army of youthful readers."--Brooklyn Standard Union.
ry had led her new friend only a little way down the sharply-descending trail when suddenly the trees, which had crowded thickly on either side, opened on a clearing where roses and hollyhocks, phlox, sweet-william, petunias and great purple-hearted asters bloomed in riotous confusion along with gold-tasseled corn, squash, beets and beans. A vine-covered gateway led from this into the grassy stretch that surrounded the low-gabled house.
"Hey-o! Sweetheart!" called Jerry in a clear voice.
In answer came a chorus of joyful yelping. Around the corner dashed a Llewellyn setter and a wiry-haired terrier, tumbling over one another in their eagerness to reach their mistress; at the same moment a door leading from the house to the garden opened and a slender woman came out.
John Westley knew at a glance that she was Jerry's mother, for she had the same expression of sunniness on her lips; her hair, like Jerry's, looked as though it had been burnished by the sun though, unlike Jerry's cli
The story of a young girl reared in the mountains who comes to be schooled in the city has potential, but becomes full of moralizing. When first met, Jerry seems exceptional, an elfin creature with a rich fantasy life, yet on arriving at her new home she turns into a regular girl almost immediately -- a very good girl, of course -- but ordinary and somewhat dull. She has some lively schoolgirl adventures, though on the whole one is left with the idea that her life would have been much more interesting had she remained at home. The ending is predictable, too.