Grand-moth-er Gra-ham was a love-ly old la-dy. She had a beau-ti-ful
home a few miles from the city. Her chil-dren and her grand-chil-dren
went out to see her quite oft-en.
A-my thought there was no place like Grand-ma's for her sum-mer
va-ca-tion. There was a lake, a boat, white lil-ies, squir-rels, grand
trees old-er than grand-moth-er, her-self. Then there were barns,
sta-bles, hor-ses, cows, calves, and a Shet-land pony that an-y child
could ride.
A-my had her bi-cy-cle with her, and went off on it to see Grand-ma's
neigh-bors and do any lit-tle er-rands that were re-quired. If cous-in
Jam-ie were on a vis-it at the same time, per-haps he would mount
Gyp-sy, the po-ny, and ride a-long by Am-y's side. A race be-tween the
bi-cy-cle and the po-ny was great fun.
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But there were days when rains kept the chil-dren in the house. Grand-ma
told them love-ly sto-ries then. Jam-ie would sit play-ing with his
sol-diers, and A-my al-ways had all she could do in her "house-days" as
she called them, sew-ing to "keep her dolls in clothes," for "Elm
Lodge" was a great place to wear out clothes.
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The sto-ries Grand-ma liked best to tell were "true sto-ries" of the
days when her own chil-dren were small, and A-my liked best to hear
a-bout her own fa-ther and what he did when he was a child. So one day
grand-ma told this: