Dorothy Dale's Camping Days

E-text prepared by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Jeannie Howse, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
SHE SLID INTO THE FRAIL BARK, AND STARTED OFF. Dorothy Dale's Camping Days — Page 195


Oh, my! exclaimed one girl.
Oh, mine! amended another.
Oh, ours! called out a third.
Then there was one awful bump, and the chorus was understood.
The old-style hay wagon, which was like a big crib, wobbled from side to side. The young ladies followed its questionable example, and some of them sort of lapped-over on the others.
Dorothy Dale! gasped one particularly sensitive member of the party, we thought when you vouched for this affair that it would turn out all right!
But it hasn't turned out anything yet, replied Dorothy, although we all came pretty near it—that time.
She clasped her hand around one of the braces of the hayrick, evidently determined that should she be turned out her arm would be responsible.