CHAPTER VI
Now We Come to the Little Old Lady and Jingle’s Magic Whistle
The wind howled, and the lightning popped and cracked, and everything grew as black as ink. The rain came down in torrents and the house in which they had taken shelter rocked and shook.
“I wonder if anyone lives here!” Gran’ma said, as she felt around the walls and turned on a light.
The room was flooded with brightness, and the Beautiful Girl saw a paper lying on a table and picked it up.
“Oh dear me!” she cried, as she sat down on a chair and buried her face in her hands.
Gran’ma ran to her and put her arms around her. “What is the matter, my dear?” she asked.
“Look at the date on this paper!” wept the Beautiful Girl. Gran’ma read, “July 24, 339,780.”
“I don’t understand!” said Gran’ma as the others came and stood around the Beautiful Girl.