A NARROW ESCAPE
The picnic was the real thing. That is, it was the real old-fashioned
sort of a picnic, and it was therefore a novelty to most of its
participants.
Patty had been on many motor picnics, where elaborate luncheons were
served by white-garbed waiters, with the same appointments of silver,
glass, and china that she would use at home. But not since her
Vernondale days had she attended this sort of picnic. There were no
servants. The simple but appetising luncheon was spread on a tablecloth
laid on the grass, and, true to tradition, a grasshopper now and then
leaped in among the viands, or an audacious spider attempted to approach
the feast. But these were few and easily vanquished by the brave and
valiant men of the party.
The men, too, proved themselves capable in the arts of fire-building and
coffee-making, so that Patty, who was a born cook and loved it, found no
use for her talent. So she and the other girls set the table as daintily
as they could with the primitive means at their command, and decorated
it prettily with wild flowers.
“As a rule,” said Elise, as she sat with a sandwich in one hand and a
glass of lemonade in the other, “I like silver forks and china plates at
a picnic, but, for once, I do think these wooden butter plates and paper
napkins are rather fun. What do you think, Patty?”
“Far be it from me to cast reflections on the goods my host provides,
but, generally speaking, I confess I like my table a few feet above the
over-attentive population of Mother Earth.”
“Oh, pshaw, Patty!” exclaimed Philip. “You’re no kind of a sport! You’re
a pampered darling of luxurious modernity.”
“Gracious! What an awful thing to be!” cried Patty, in mock dismay.
“And, anyway, Patty,” said the blunt Mona, “if you hadn’t put all those
old weedy flowers on the tablecloth, there wouldn’t be any ants and
things. They’ve mostly come out of your decorations.”
“I believe you’re right,” said Patty, laughing. “So the picnic is a
success after all, and it’s only our decorations that made any trouble.”
Then they all ate heartily of the feast, and there was much laughter and
merriment, and afterward they sat round the fire and told stories and
sang songs, and they all declared it was the very nicest picnic ever
was, and they were sorry when it was time to go home.
“But we must be going,” Patty said, “for I promised Nan we’d be home in
ample time to dress for dinner, and it’s a fairly long ride.”
“Do we go back the same way we came?” asked Elise, looking at Philip
with an arch air of enquiry.
“Go back any way you please, fair lady,” he replied. “The way we came is
the shortest, but there is a longer way round, if you prefer it.”
“I don’t mean that,” said Elise. “I mean do we go with the same
partners?”
“I do,” declared Philip, “and Miss Fairfield does. The rest of you may
do just as you choose.”
“Then I think we’ll go as we came,” said Elise, with an air of
satisfaction.
The simplicity of Philip’s picnic made it an easy matter to pack up to
go home, as there was little beside the tablecloth to take with them,
and so they were soon ready for the homeward trip.
As host, Philip sent off the other cars first, and, after they were all
started, he stepped into the Swift Camilla, beside Patty, who was
already in the driving seat.
“I’m going to drive home, you know,” she said. “I’m simply dying to get
hold of this steering bar once more.”
“All right; you may drive, but let’s go round the other route; it’s only
a little bit longer.”
“How much longer?”
“Not more than a mile or two,—two at the most.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Positive!”
“All right; then we’ve time enough. Where do we turn off?”
“At this next turn to the left. That takes us around past Berry Hill,
and so on around by Blue Lake.”
“Oh, yes, I know the way after we reach Blue Lake. Here we go, then!”
Patty took the turn Philip had indicated, and, as she did so, she caught
the last glimpse of the other three cars disappearing in the distance as
they went home by the same road they came.
The road she had turned into was far more picturesque and beautiful,
and, as this portion of it was new to her, she was delighted to see it.
“What high hills!” she exclaimed. “Why, they’re almost mountains!”
“Hardly that; but they are fairly high hills, to be so near the
seashore. Don’t you want me to drive, Patty? This road has sharp
corners, and around these hills it’s hard to see anybody coming.”
“No, I’ll drive and you keep a watch out. We haven’t met a car yet.”
“No, and I wonder at it. Usually there are lots of racers and touring
cars along here. But, of course, it’s early in the season for them.”
“How is that you are so familiar with this locality? You seem to know
all about it.”
“I spent a summer down here some years ago. That’s how I knew where that
picnic ground is. Look out, there’s a bad place in the road!”
But Patty had already seen it, and was skilfully steering so as to avoid
it.
“You see everything,” said Philip, admiringly; “you’re a wonderful
little motorist! I never saw anybody drive better than you do; and so
easily, too. Merciful Heavens!”
Patty gave a jump at Philip’s excited exclamation, and saw, straight in
front of her, an immense red car at full speed. It had swung around a
sharp angle, and could not possibly have been seen by them until it
burst on their vision not twenty yards away. They had heard no signal,
which was culpable carelessness on the part of the driver of the big
car, and perhaps Patty was equally culpable in not having sounded her
own horn.
But this was no time to think of such matters, for they were really in
perilous danger. The driver of the big car did nothing to avert
disaster. It could not be he was indifferent to the awful situation; he
looked more as if he were stunned by the sudden realisation of it.
Patty was absolutely paralysed with fear. She realised fully their
plight, she knew that nothing could save them from instant and terrible
collision, and her muscles were absolutely powerless to move.
The short distance between the two cars diminished like lightning, and
neither car had swerved from a straight line leading to the other.
Patty tried to shriek, but her stiffened tongue gave forth no sound.
At sight of the big car, Philip Van Reypen was stunned also. But, in an
instant, he recovered his senses, and, in another instant, he had shot
out his right hand and, seizing the controller handle, pushed it
backward with a force that nearly crushed Patty’s hand that held it.
Then, grasping the steering bar with his other hand, he swerved the car
over to the right, blindly trying to find the reverse lever with his
foot.
Then happened what Philip knew would happen. The Camilla banged into a
sheer cliff of rock, but took it sideways. He grasped Patty as the car
stopped, and they were both jolted backward.
By presence of mind and quick action, he had run the car into the cliff,
causing thereby a minor smash-up, instead of meeting the big red car in
a head-on collision, which would surely have meant fatality.
Patty was very white, but she did not faint. The shock restored her
numbed senses, and she turned to Philip with a glance of perfect
understanding of what he had done.
“Oh, Patty,” he whispered, in a tense voice, “thank Heaven you’re safe!”
“It was a miracle, Philip; but you did it yourself! I knew it at the
time, my brain worked perfectly, but my muscles were paralysed by fear.
Oh, suppose yours had been, too!”
“I could have done better if I could have sensed the thing an instant
sooner. For a second my brain wouldn’t work, and then I saw my way
clear, like a flash, but it was too late! I hadn’t time to back or to
get across in front of the car. It was either to run into this cliff, or
have that immense machine run into us.”
“It was splendid!” said Patty, the tears coming to her eyes; and then
the reaction from the shock came, and she burst into violent sobbing.
“Don’t, Patty; don’t do that,” said Philip, in a pained voice, and Patty
looked up, smiling through her tears.
“I’m not really crying,” she said; “it’s just a foolish reaction, and I
can’t help it. I’m sorry to be so silly, but I’m just a little
hysterical from,—from joy, you know.”
“You behaved splendidly, Patty! If you had moved hand or foot, we would
have been dashed to pieces. It was only because I could get full command
of the controller and the steering bar that I could manage at all. If
you had given a convulsive push the other way,—well, never mind that!
But I expect I crushed your hand when I grasped the controller. I had
to, to make sure that you didn’t jerk it the other way unintentionally.”
“I guess you did hurt my hand;” and Patty held it up to see. Sure
enough, black and blue bruises already appeared on fingers and palm.
“Poor little hand,” said Philip, taking it in his own. “I’m so sorry,
Patty.”
“Don’t talk to me like that!” exclaimed Patty, “as if I were a
molly-coddle! I’m glad you smashed my hand, as that was the only way to
save us from——”
“From certain death,” said Philip, gravely.
And then they heard a motor coming behind them, and, looking up, found a
good-sized touring car, which was about to pass them, but had stopped at
their side.
“Want help?” called out a cheery voice, and Philip answered, “Indeed, we
do!”
The stranger jumped out of his car, and came over to inspect the
Camilla.
“I ought to get out,” whispered Philip. “Are you brave enough to sit
here alone, Patty?”
“Of course; Camilla can’t run away now!”
Philip and the other man looked about to see what had really happened to
Patty’s car. There was not so much damage as it seemed at first, for,
with the exception of a smashed mudguard, and some dents and bruises,
nothing was broken, except the shaft drive axle. But this, of course,
rendered the car helpless as to her motor, though her running gear was
all right.
“I’ll give you a tow,” said the stranger heartily. “Where do you want to
go?”
“To Spring Beach,” answered Philip. “Are you going that way?”
“I can go that way as well as not, and, when people come as near death
and destruction as you people did, I think it’s only human to take you
home. Perfect marvel, though, how you escaped with so little injury to
the car!”
“Perfect marvel how we escaped at all!” said Philip. “I did what I
could, but, when I see the narrow margin we had on either side, I wonder
we weren’t smashed to bits, anyway.”
“It is a wonder!” said the stranger. “Most marvellous thing I ever
saw,—and I’ve seen lots of motor accidents. My name’s Hampton,—Henry
Hampton,—and now, if you’ll help me rig up the tow, I’ll pull you
home.”
And so, after a short time, Philip and Patty, still seated in the
damaged Camilla, went swiftly along, towed by kind-hearted Henry
Hampton’s powerful car.
Of course, when they reached “The Pebbles,” an anxious crowd awaited
them.
“It’s getting to be sort of a habit, our getting home late, with an
accident to report,” said Philip, as they turned in the gate, and Patty
couldn’t help smiling, though her nerves were still tingling from the
recent shock, and from the realisation of their wonderful escape.
The laughing crowd on the veranda grew suddenly still as they saw a
strange motor enter the gate with the Camilla in tow.
“What has happened?” cried Nan, as they came within hearing distance.
“We’re all right, father!” called out Patty, anxious to allay the look
of fear and consternation on her father’s face.
“Patty, dear child, what is it?” exclaimed Mr. Fairfield, as he lifted
Patty, still white and trembling, out of the car.
“An accident, father,—an awful accident! And Philip was the hero this
time; he saved my life, and he did it in a most wonderful way! I’ll tell
you about it sometime, but I can’t now;” and Patty fell limply into her
father’s arms.
“Never mind, darling, it’s all right,” said Mr. Fairfield, soothingly,
as he kissed the pale brow, and carried Patty up the steps and into the
house. He laid her on a couch, and, under Nan’s gentle ministrations,
she soon revived.
Meantime, Henry Hampton was telling the tale as he had understood it.
“Mighty slick piece of work!” he said. “Never saw anything like it in my
life! That young fellow ought to have medals pinned all over him.”
“There, there, Mr. Hampton, that’ll be about all,” said Philip, trying
to shut off the tide of compliments from the stranger.
“No, ’taint about all!” declared Mr. Hampton, wagging his head, “but I
guess the little lady can tell you the story, once she feels like
herself again. I must be gettin’ along now, but I just want to remark,
edgewise, that I’ve seen lots of pluck and bravery in my day, but for
hair-trigger intellect, coolheadedness, pluck, and plumb bravery, I
never saw such an exhibition as this here chap put up to-day!
Good-afternoon, all;” and, with a wave of his hand, Mr. Hampton went
away.
Philip was the hero of the hour, but he would not admit that he had done
anything praiseworthy or unusual.
“There was only one thing to do,” he said; “only one possible chance to
take, and of course I took it; and almost by a miracle it went through
all right, and we smashed the car, but saved our lives.”
“Don’t you listen to him!” called out Patty. “You people come in here,
and I’ll tell you all about it! I was driving, and it was next to
impossible for Philip to get hold of the bars, across _me_. But he did
it! and he did it in time! and he did it exactly right! And I just sat
there paralysed with fear, and unable to move. But I suppose you don’t
expect a girl to be very brave,—and I sort of collapsed, I know. But
Philip is a hero, and I want him appreciated as such.”
“He is, Patty dear,” said her father; “and, though he’s awfully modest
himself about his brave deed, he has the honour and respect and
gratitude of all of us for his wonderful quickness of brain and hand
that saved his own life,—and that of my little girl.”
Mr. Fairfield’s voice broke as he folded Patty in his arms, and he
kissed her with all of a father’s love for the treasure he had so nearly
lost.
* * * * *
Melody Lane Mystery Stories
By LILIAN GARIS
Thrills, secrets, ghosts—adventures that will fascinate you seem to
surround pretty Carol Duncan. A vivid, plucky girl, her cleverness at
solving mysteries will captivate and thrill every mystery fan.
The author has written many popular mystery stories for girls and in
this new series Mrs. Garis is at her best.
THE GHOST OF MELODY LANE
Mystery surrounds the great organ in the home of the “Cameo
Lady”—beloved friend of Carol and sponsor of the girls’ Choral
Club. Three people see the “ghost” that wanders in the grove
carrying a waxy white rose. And Carol finds the rose! In the end
she finds the ghost too!
THE FORBIDDEN TRAIL
There was a tradition at “Splatter Castle” on Melody Lane, and
Marah Splartier, eccentric aunt of Veronica Flint determined to
protect Vera from following the long line of family tragedies
that had had their beginning on the “forbidden trail.” Carol has
several bad frights before she clears up the mystery that keeps
the little family at Splatter Castle unhappy and afraid.
THE TOWER SECRET
The winking lights flashing from the old tower on the grounds of
the Bonds’ new home defy explanation. There is no one in the
tower—and no electric power or connections! Had the engaging
circus family that Carol befriended anything to do with the
mystery? And what interest had Parsnips, the queer old farmer,
in the “ghost” tower?
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
* * * * *
DANA GIRLS MYSTERY STORIES
By CAROLYN KEENE
Impetuous, delightful Jean Dana and her charming, serious minded sister
Louise find themselves in the midst of several mysteries, when they
attempt to aid people who are in trouble. Thrilling moments come to the
girls as they follow up clue after clue in an endeavor to untangle the
knotty problems in which they become enmeshed.
BY THE LIGHT OF THE STUDY LAMP
A stolen study lamp, a fortune teller, and a distressed
schoolmate provide plenty of excitement for the Dana girls
before they locate the persons responsible for many mysterious
happenings.
THE SECRET AT LONE TREE COTTAGE
While the girls are at Starhurst School, they learn that their
beloved English teacher has vanished in a strange manner. In
tracing her, Jean and Louise are able to aid the frantic
relatives of a dear little curly-haired tot, but not before they
themselves are in danger of disappearing.
IN THE SHADOW OF THE TOWER
The mingling of unusual characters, who have life interests very
different from one another, lends excitement and intrigue to a
Christmas vacation of the Dana girls. Their ability to fit
together the pieces of a strange puzzle brings happiness to
several persons.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
* * * * *
THE JUDY BOLTON
MYSTERY STORIES
By MARGARET SUTTON
Here is a new series of mystery stories for girls by an author who knows
the kind of stories every girl wants to read—mystery of the “shivery”
sort, adventure that makes the nerves tingle, clever “detecting” and a
new lovable heroine, Judy Bolton, whom all girls will take to their
hearts at once.
THE VANISHING SHADOW
Judy’s safety is threatened by a gang of crooks who think she
knows too much about their latest “deal.” She is constantly
pursued by a mysterious shadow which vanishes before she can get
a glimpse of its owner.
THE HAUNTED ATTIC
The Boltons move into a large rambling house reputed to be
haunted. Even the brave Judy who has looked forward to “spooky”
goings on is thoroughly frightened at the strange scrapings and
rappings and the eery “crying ghost.”
THE INVISIBLE CHIMES
Through an automobile accident a strange girl is taken into the
Bolton household—the whole family becomes attached to her and
interested in her story. Judy tracks down many clues before she
finally uncovers the real identity of “Honey.”
SEVEN STRANGE CLUES
Judy gets to the bottom of a mystery that centers around a prize
poster contest and a fire in the school building—through seven
baffling clues that hold the key to the answer.
THE GHOST PARADE
Seven monster heads—Indian totems—provide mystery and humor
and adventure in this thrilling story.
THE YELLOW PHANTOM
With her quick thinking and courage Judy rescues a lost friend
and solves the mystery of “Golden Girl.”
THE MYSTIC BALL
Irene, the “engaged girl,” is frightened by a crystal-gazer but
Judy exposes the trickery and saves her friend’s romance.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
* * * * *
THE NANCY DREW MYSTERY
STORIES
By CAROLYN KEENE
Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself.
Here is a thrilling series of mystery stories for girls. Nancy Drew,
ingenious, alert, is the daughter of a famous criminal lawyer and she
herself is deeply interested in his mystery cases. Her interest involves
her often in some very dangerous and exciting situations.
THE SECRET OF THE OLD CLOCK
Nancy, unaided, seeks to locate a missing will and finds herself
in the midst of adventure.
THE HIDDEN STAIRCASE
Mysterious happenings in an old stone mansion lead to an
investigation by Nancy.
THE BUNGALOW MYSTERY
Nancy has some perilous experiences around a deserted bungalow.
THE MYSTERY AT LILAC INN
Quick thinking and quick action were needed for Nancy to
extricate herself from a dangerous situation.
THE SECRET AT SHADOW RANCH
On a vacation in Arizona Nancy uncovers an old mystery and
solves it.
THE SECRET OF RED GATE FARM
Nancy exposes the doings of a secret society on an isolated
farm.
THE CLUE IN THE DIARY
A fascinating and exciting story of a search for a clue to a
surprising mystery.
NANCY’S MYSTERIOUS LETTER
Nancy receives a letter informing her that she is heir to a
fortune. This story tells of her search for another Nancy Drew.
THE SIGN OF THE TWISTED CANDLES
Nancy, as mediator in a generation-old feud, divulges an unknown
birthright.
THE PASSWORD TO LARKSPUR LANE
A carrier pigeon furnishes Nancy with a clue to a mysterious
retreat.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
* * * * *
THE BLYTHE GIRLS BOOKS
By LAURA LEE HOPE
Author of The Outdoor Girls Series
Illustrated by Thelma Gooch
The Blythe Girls, three in number, were left alone in New York City.
Helen, who went in for art and music, kept the little flat uptown, while
Margy, just out of business school, obtained a position as secretary and
Rose, plain-spoken and business like, took what she called a “job” in a
department store. The experiences of these girls make fascinating
reading—life in the great metropolis is thrilling and full of strange
adventures and surprises.
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: HELEN, MARGY AND ROSE
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: MARGY’S QUEER INHERITANCE
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: ROSE’S GREAT PROBLEM
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: HELEN’S STRANGE BOARDER
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: THREE ON A VACATION
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: MARGY’S SECRET MISSION
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: ROSE’S ODD DISCOVERY
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: THE DISAPPEARANCE OF HELEN
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: SNOWBOUND IN CAMP
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: MARGY’S MYSTERIOUS VISITOR
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: ROSE’S HIDDEN TALENT
THE BLYTHE GIRLS: HELEN’S WONDERFUL MISTAKE
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
* * * * *
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES
By LAURA LEE HOPE
Author of “The Blythe Girls Books.”
Every Volume Complete in Itself.
These are the adventures of a group of bright, fun-loving, up-to-date
girls who have a common bond in their fondness for outdoor life,
camping, travel and adventure. There is excitement and humor in these
stories and girls will find in them the kind of pleasant associations
that they seek to create among their own friends and chums.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT OCEAN VIEW
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON PINE ISLAND
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT THE HOSTESS HOUSE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT BLUFF POINT
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT WILD ROSE LODGE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN THE SADDLE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AROUND THE CAMPFIRE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON CAPE COD
THE OUTDOOR GULLS AT FOAMING FALLS
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ALONG THE COAST
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT SPRING HILL FARM
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT NEW MOON RANCH
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON A HIKE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON A CANOE TRIP
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT CEDAR RIDGE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN THE AIR
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
* * * * *
THE LILIAN GARIS BOOKS
Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself.
Among her “fan” letters Lilian Garis receives some flattering
testimonials of her girl readers’ interest in her stories. From a class
of thirty comes a vote of twenty-five naming her as their favorite
author. Perhaps it is the element of live mystery that Mrs. Garis always
builds her stories upon, or perhaps it is because the girls easily can
translate her own sincere interest in themselves from the stories. At
any rate her books prosper through the changing conditions of these
times, giving pleasure, satisfaction, and, incidentally, that tactful
word of inspiration, so important in literature for young girls. Mrs.
Garis prefers to call her books “juvenile novels” and in them romance is
never lacking.
JUDY JORDAN
JUDY JORDAN’S DISCOVERY
SALLY FOR SHORT
SALLY FOUND OUT
A GIRL CALLED TED
TED AND TONY, TWO GIRLS OF TODAY
CLEO’S MISTY RAINBOW
CLEO’S CONQUEST
BARBARA HALE
BARBARA HALE’S MYSTERY FRIEND
NANCY BRANDON
NANCY BRANDON’S MYSTERY
CONNIE LORING
CONNIE LORING’S GYPSY FRIEND
JOAN: JUST GIRL
JOAN’S GARDEN OF ADVENTURE
GLORIA: A GIRL AND HER DAD
GLORIA AT BOARDING SCHOOL
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
* * * * *
The Children’s Favorite Series
FOR BOYS AND GIRLS OF EVERY AGE
These books belong in every home where there are children
Adventures of Tom Sawyer, The _Mark Twain_
Alice in Wonderland _Lewis Carroll_
America _Robert W. Chambers_
Black Beauty _Anna Sewell_
Eight Cousins _Louisa May Alcott_
Hans Brinker _Mary Mapes Dodge_
Heidi _Johanna Spyri_
Helen’s Babies _John Habberton_
Last of the Mohicans, The _James F. Cooper_
Light House at the End of the World, The _Jules Verne_
Little Lame Prince, The _Miss Mullock_
Little Men _Louisa M. Alcott_
Little Minister _Sir James Barrie_
Little Women _Louisa May Alcott_
Mr. Midshipman Easy _Captain Marryat_
Mysterious Island, The _Jules Verne_
Old Fashioned Girl, An _Louisa May Alcott_
Oliver Twist _Charles Dickens_
Oregon Trail, The _Francis Parkman_
Pilgrim’s Progress, The _John Bunyan_
Pinocchio _C. Collodi_
Robinson Crusoe _Daniel Defoe_
Rose in Bloom _Louisa May Alcott_
Scarlet Letter _Nathaniel Hawthorne_
Spy, The _James F. Cooper_
Story of a Bad Boy, The _Thomas Bailey Aldrich_
Swiss Family Robinson _Johann R. Wyss_
Tales from Shakespeare _Charles and Mary Lamb_
Tom Brown’s School Days _Thomas Hughes_
Treasure Island _Robert Louis Stevenson_
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea _Jules Verne_
Two Years Before the Mast _Richard Henry Dana_
Uncle Tom’s Cabin _Harriet Beecher Stowe_
Under the Lilacs _Louisa May Alcott_
The White Company _Arthur Conan Doyle_
GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Hyphenation has been retained as in the original. Punctuation has been
corrected without note. Other errors have been corrected as noted below:
page 106, many jewelled pines; ==> many jewelled pins;
page 138, you’re right, fathery ==> you’re right, father
page 267, spider attemped to ==> spider attempted to