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Pretty soon Dorothy came out of the house with her sunbonnet, and she
called out:
"
Come on, Shaggy Man, if you want me to show you the road to Butterfield."
She climbed the fence into the ten-acre lot and he followed her, walking slowly
and stumbling over the little hillocks in the pasture as if he was thinking of
something else and did not notice them.
"
My, but you're clumsy!" said the little girl. "Are your feet tired?"
"
No, miss; it's my whiskers; they tire very easily in this warm weather," said
he. "I wish it would snow, don't you?"
"
'Course not, Shaggy Man," replied Dorothy, giving him a severe look. "If it
snowed in August it would spoil the corn and the oats and the wheat; and
then Uncle Henry wouldn't have any crops; and that would make him poor;
and--"
"
"
Never mind," said the shaggy man. "It won't snow, I guess. Is this the lane?"
Yes," replied Dorothy, climbing another fence; "I'll go as far as the highway
with you."
"
Thankee, miss; you're very kind for your size, I'm sure," said he gratefully.
"
It isn't everyone who knows the road to Butterfield," Dorothy remarked as she
tripped along the lane; "but I've driven there many a time with Uncle Henry,
and so I b'lieve I could find it blindfolded."
"
Don't do that, miss," said the shaggy man earnestly; "you might make a
mistake."
"
I won't," she answered, laughing. "Here's the highway. Now it's the second--
no, the third turn to the left--or else it's the fourth. Let's see. The first one is
by the elm tree, and the second is by the gopher holes; and then--"
"
Then what?" he inquired, putting his hands in his coat pockets. Toto
grabbed a finger and bit it; the shaggy man took his hand out of that pocket
quickly, and said "Oh!"
Dorothy did not notice. She was shading her eyes from the sun with her arm,
looking anxiously down the road.
"
Come on," she commanded. "It's only a little way farther, so I may as well
show you."
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