On a dusty road, a mile or two from town stands a neat, whitewashed fence. This fence surrounded a garden, which encircled a yellow house. In this house lived a tidy, middle-aged woman, who was at this precise moment removing a speck of dust (Oh, sacrilege! To even think there was dust in that house,) from her matchbox.
This white picket fence was overrun with ivy and jessamine, and its well-oiled gate swung gaily on its hinge.
Every day our diligent spinster watered her plants and made her sage tea, reading the paper that ‘thumped’ daily against her door, announcing that morning had crept over the hillside at last.
Our dear lady (named Constance, if you must know, for her constancy) watered her Black-eyes Susans second to last, and when she was watering this very plant on a quiet sunny morning, she noticed that her smart picket fence sagged a little, in the very middle. She frowned. It had been good as new yesterday morning.
She moved on to water her ivy, still frowning, and at the precise moment that she finished, her tea kettle whistled as usual and she went inside to her tea.
The next day, she noticed that it drooped even lower. Our dear lady was puzzled. She read the paper that banged louder than usual against her door. Elephants had escaped from the city zoo. There was a city zoo? Oh, yes. She had read about the grand opening about three months ago.
She read her favorite book again to shake the feeling of impending disaster.
This white picket fence was overrun with ivy and jessamine, and its well-oiled gate swung gaily on its hinge.
Every day our diligent spinster watered her plants and made her sage tea, reading the paper that ‘thumped’ daily against her door, announcing that morning had crept over the hillside at last.
Our dear lady (named Constance, if you must know, for her constancy) watered her Black-eyes Susans second to last, and when she was watering this very plant on a quiet sunny morning, she noticed that her smart picket fence sagged a little, in the very middle. She frowned. It had been good as new yesterday morning.
She moved on to water her ivy, still frowning, and at the precise moment that she finished, her tea kettle whistled as usual and she went inside to her tea.
The next day, she noticed that it drooped even lower. Our dear lady was puzzled. She read the paper that banged louder than usual against her door. Elephants had escaped from the city zoo. There was a city zoo? Oh, yes. She had read about the grand opening about three months ago.
She read her favorite book again to shake the feeling of impending disaster.
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