Through the door, across the porch and down onto the sidewalk she ran.
She worked a long while before she could get the umbrella to stay up.
"Now, I am a big lady with a long dress and I am going over to the
store," she said to herself as she gathered her little short skirt up
with one hand, and held the umbrella up straight and fine with the
other. Walking carefully, "because it is so muddy," she said, as down
the street she started. Pretty soon a gust of the mischievous south
wind came along and lifted the umbrella right out of Marjorie's little
fat hand and took it out into the middle of the street and set it
down.
Forgetting the rainy day, the long skirt, and the mud, off the curbing
she jumped, and ran for the umbrella. She had almost grasped it
again, when along came another gust of wind, and down the street
bumity-bump went the big, open umbrella. Marjorie started to run after
it, but over and over it went so much faster than a little girl could
run, that it was soon far out of her reach.
[Illustration: She walked carefully because it was muddy.]
Then she began to cry.
"Catch it, oh, catch it!" she screamed, as she ran.
The lady I told you about heard the cry, and looking up from her
reading, saw the big umbrella go rolling past, followed by the
frightened, crying little girl.
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