.

.

." "_Whoop! Whoo-oop!_" The cry came from afar; indeed, from the woods across the river.
Yet as the hare pricks up her ears at the sound of a distant horn and darts away to the covert, so did Miss Marty pause, and, after listening for a second or two, hurry back to the log to resume her shoes and stockings.
Her shoes she found where she had left them, and one stocking on the rank grass close beside them.

_But where was the other ?_ She looked to right, to left, and all around her in a panic.
Could she have dropped it into the stream in her hurry?
And had the stream carried it down the fall?
She drew on one stocking and shoe, and catching up the other shoe in her hand, crept down to explore.

The stream leapt out of sight through a screen of hazels.