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Streeter, John Williams

"The Fat of the Land The Story of an American Farm"


After lunch, the young people went for a frolic in the snow. Two hours
later the shaking of garments and stamping of feet gave evidence of the
return of the party. Stepping into the hall I was at once surrounded by
the handsomest troupe of Esquimaux that ever invaded the temperate zone.
The snow clung lovingly to their wet clothing and would not be shaken
off; their cheeks were flushed, their eyes bright, and their voices
pitched at an out-of-doors key.
"Away to your rooms, every one of you, and get into dry clothes," said
I. "Don't dare show yourselves until the dinner bell rings. I'll send
each of you a hot negus,--it's a prescription and must be taken; I'm a
tyrant when professional."
We saw nothing more of them until dinner. The young ladies came in
white, with their maiden shoulders losing nothing by contact with their
snow-white gowns. All but Miss Jessie, whose dress was a pearl velvet,
buttoned close to her slender throat. I loved this style best, but I
could never believe that anything could be prettier than Jane's white
shoulders.


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