JEWEL'S STORY BOOK
Then Mrs. Evringham ran her finger along the edges of the volume and let the type-written pages flutter before its owner's delighted eyes.
"You've made me some stories, mother!" cried Jewel. One of the great pleasures and treats of her life had been those rare half hours when her busy mother had time to tell her a story.
Her eyes danced with delight. "Oh, you're the kindest mother!" she went on, "and you'll have time to read them to me now! Anna Belle, won't it be the most fun? Oh, mother, we'll go to the ravine to read, won't we?"
Mrs. Evringham's cheeks flushed and she laughed at the child's joy. "I hope they won't disappoint you," she said.
"But you wrote them out of love. How can they?" returned the little girl quickly.
"That's so, Jewel; that's so, dear."