'Oh, isn't it grand, Harold?' Isn't it grand!' she kept repeating, with
her mouth full of cherries, after they had reached the trees on which
the ripe, red fruit hung so thickly. 'Do you s'pose we shall see the
crazy man?' she asked, and Harold replied:
'I don't know. I guess not, unless he comes to the window. Those are his
rooms, and that window which looks so ugly outside, is the one with the
picture in it,' and he pointed to the south wing, most of the windows of
which were open, while against one a long ladder was standing.
It had been left there by a workman who had been up on it to fix the
hinge of a blind, and who had gone to the village in quest of something
he needed, Jerry saw the ladder and its close proximity to the open
window, and she thought to herself.
'I mean to fill my pail with cherries, and go up that ladder and take
them to him, I wonder if he would bite me?'
Suiting the action to the word she stopped eating; and began to pick
from the lower limbs as rapidly as possible until her pail was full.
'Pour them into the basket,' Harold called to her from the top of the
tree, but Jerry did not heed him. She had seen the tall figure of a man
pass before the window, and a pale, thin face had for a moment, looked
out, apparently to discover whence the talking came.
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