"Letís be glad for books like Mary Cary. It isnít so much what Mary Cary does, however, as what she is, bless her! that warms the cockles of the chilliest, most snugly corseted heart."--The Chicago Record-Herald
and I was afraid to go to sleep at night for fear I would die, and I stayed awake so as to know about it if I did.
And then I began to be afraid of dying, and my heart would beat so I thought it would wear out. But I didn't tell anybody how I felt. I was ashamed of being afraid, and I just told God, because I knew He could understand better than anybody else; and I asked Him please to hold on to me, I not being able to do much holding myself, and He held. I know it, for I felt it.
You see, Mrs. Blamire--she's Miss Bray's assistant--was away; Miss Bray was busy getting ready to go when Mrs. Blamire came back; and Miss Jones was pickling and preserving. I didn't want to bother her, so I dragged on, and kept my feelings to myself.
The girls were awful good to me. Real many have relations in Yorkburg, and if I'd eaten all the fruit they sent me I'd been a tutti-frutti; but I couldn't eat it. And then one day I began to talk so queer they were frightened, and told Miss Bray, and she sent for the doctor q