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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"

' Believe me, all of you, the best way
to help the places we live in is to be glad we live there."
He stopped, and a murmur of emotion and surprise ran through the
audience. It was not in the least what they had expected, but it moved
them more than what they had expected would have moved them. "Hear,
hear!" a voice cried out in the middle of the hall. An outburst of
cheers caught up the cry, and as they subsided Charity heard Mr. Miles
saying to someone near him: "That was a MAN talking----" He wiped his
spectacles.
Mr. Royall had stepped back from the desk, and taken his seat in the row
of chairs in front of the harmonium. A dapper white-haired gentleman--a
distant Hatchard--succeeded him behind the goldenrod, and began to
say beautiful things about the old oaken bucket, patient white-haired
mothers, and where the boys used to go nutting... and Charity began again
to search for Harney....
Suddenly Mr. Royall pushed back his seat, and one of the maple branches
in front of the harmonium collapsed with a crash.


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