Finally Mrs
Putnam spoke. "I wish you'd bring up some wood and start a fire, the
room's kinder cold."
When Samanthy reached the kitchen she found Lindy there.
"Why, Miss Lindy," said she, "what are you up so early for?"
"I heard mother pounding and I thought she might be sick."
"She is awful sick," rejoined Samanthy; "I never saw her look so poorly
afore; she seems to be all choked up. She wants a big mustard plaster
and a fire up in her room, and I don't know which to do fust. Oh!" she
cried, "I must comb my hair before I go back;" and she wet a brush and
commenced brushing out her long brown hair, which, with her rosy cheeks,
formed her two principal claims to good looks.
"Sit down," said Lindy, "and I'll fix your hair up much quicker than you
can do it yourself."
"And much better, too," added Samanthy thankfully.
"While you're building the fire," continued Lindy, "I'll mix up the
mustard plaster."
When Samanthy entered the chamber with the materials for the fire, Mrs.
Putnam opened her eyes and said sharply, "Did yer bring that plaster?"
"No," said Samanthy, "I thought I would build the fire fust.
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