Once there was a little boy named Billy, and Gapper lent him his donkey
to go ride. That’s me, you know. Next day Gapper came and said, “You
boys lost my whip.” Now I remembered having the whip when we crept in
among the bushes,--for we got sight of a woodchuck, and came near
finding his hole. So when school was done at noon, I asked leave to put
some bread and meat in my pocket, instead of eating any dinner, and go
to look for Gapper’s whip. And he said I might. ’T was two miles off.
But I found it. And I dug for a good deal of saxifax-root. And picked
lots of boxberry-plums.
And I never noticed how the sky looked, till I heard a noise something
like thunder. It was very much like thunder. Almost just like it. I
thought it was thunder. Only it sounded a great ways off. I was walking
along slow, snapping my whip and eating my dinner, for I thought I
wouldn’t hurry for thunder, when something hard dropped down close to
me. Then another dropped,--and then another. And they kept dropping. I
picked one up and found they were hailstones, and they were bigger than
bullets.
It kept growing dark, and the hailstones came thicker, and hit me in the
face. Then they began to pour right down, and I ran. They beat upon me
just like a driving storm all of sharp stones. The horses and cows cut
across the fields like mad. The horses flung up their heads. I was
almost to that old house and ran for that, and kicked the door through
to get in, for I thought I should be killed with the hail. The shingles
off the roof were flying about; and when I got inside, ’t was awful. I
thought to be sure the roof would be beat in. Such a noise! It sounded
just exactly as if a hundred cartloads of stones were being tipped up on
to the roof. And then the window-glass! It was worse than being out
doors, for the window-glass was flying criss-cross about the room, like
fury, all mixed up with the hail. I crouched down all in a bunch and put
my arms over my head, and so tried to save myself. But then I spied a
closet door a crack open, and I jumped in there. And there I sat all
bent over with my hands up to my ears, and thought, O, what would become
of me if the old house should go? And now the strangest part is coming.
You see ’t was a pretty deep closet--School-bell! I didn’t think ’t was
half time for that to ding. I’ll tell the rest next time. Should you
care if I brought home Dorry to make a visit? He wants to bad. ’T would
be jolly if Bubby Short went too.
From your affectionate grandchild,