"The Ranch at the Wolverine" is a story of the great lone places of the earth by a writer who counts. It is a romance as entrancing as a far-away melody.
it as full as she could carry and started back to pay the price of her sympathy.
"I don't see what Minervy had to go and die for!" she complained, dodging a low-hanging branch of bloom-laden lilac. "She could wash the dishes and I'd wipe 'em--and I s'pose there ain't a clean dish-towel in the house, either! Marthy's an awful slack housekeeper."
Billy Louise, being a young person with a conscience--of a sort--washed the dishes, since she had given her word to do it. The dishpan was even more unpleasant than experience had foretold for her; and of Marthy's somewhat meager supply there seemed not one clean dish in the house. The sympathy of Billy Louise therefore waned rapidly; rather, it turned in upon itself. So that by the time she felt morally free to spend the rest of the afternoon as she pleased, she was not at all sorry for Marthy for having lost Minervy; instead, she was sorry for herself for having been betrayed into rashness and for being deprived of a playmate.
"I don't s'pose Ma