While I was aimlessly wandering around through the wreckage, half dazed, White Mountain and the Superintendent rushed in. They frantically pulled me this way and pushed me that, trying to find out if I were hopelessly injured, or merely killed. They found out I could still talk! Then they turned their attention to the Turk and his men who came trooping in to view the remains. It seemed they had put down a charge of four sticks and it had failed to explode. So they had added four more and let her ramble. It was some blow-up! At least the Turk found it so.
"What do you want me to do?" that unfortunate asked me, after the Park men finished with him.
"Oh, go outside and die!"
"White Mountain, give me your pocketbook. I'm going to buy a ticket to West Virginia. I've had enough of the great open spaces," I continued.
"Why go now?" he wanted to know. "You've escaped death from fire, flood, and fools. Might as well stay and see it through."
So we started shoveling out the dirt.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Reprinted, by permission, with a few changes, from Good Housekeeping.
[2] Reprinted, by permission, with a few changes, from Good Housekeeping.
[3] Reprinted, by permission, with a few changes from Good Housekeeping.