“Are you sure?” Holly was not convinced. “Imagination plays strange tricks on people.”
Judy knew that. Often, passing the broken dam in the valley above Roulsville, she seemed to see the devastated town as she saw it right after the flood. Today a mist hung over the valley. It was raining by the time they reached Roulsville. Judy spread a newspaper over the box containing the things for the exhibit and, together, she and Holly dashed through the rain into the library.
Maud Wheatley, the librarian who had rented Judy’s house earlier in the summer, looked a little startled. Then she saw it wasn’t noisy children rushing into the library, and her expression changed.
“Oh, it’s you, Judy, and your friend, Holly Potter. Put the things right down here on the table,” she directed. “The case is empty. You may arrange them any way you wish.”
Holly was a real help with her artistic ideas. The souvenir booklet and the old textbooks were arranged toward the back of the case with the smaller Reward of Merit cards scattered in front. Judy had brought a ball of yarn and a long needle to go with the sewing cards, and Holly had contributed her great grandmother’s sampler in its antique frame.
“It will be safe here, won’t it?” she asked anxiously when they were ready to leave.
“Perfectly safe. The case will be locked. This is a beautiful exhibit,” the librarian declared. “I knew those treasures in your attic would make a fine display, Judy, but this is even better than I expected. It amazes me that a young girl like you should be so interested in family keepsakes.”
“It may be because we lost so many family keepsakes in the flood. Everything went except what few things we had stored at Grandma’s,” Judy told her. “Your home was washed away, too, wasn’t it?”
“Only the porch. It’s still known as the Pringle house,” she replied, “although no Pringles live there any more. When we went back after the flood the rooms were empty of everything valuable. I remember how bare the mantel looked without the old pine clock and the chalkware lambs—”
“The chalkware lambs?” Judy questioned.