"I have never seen any," replied Harriet. "Still, we do not know. A
banshee might fly into any one of our tents on a dark night and change us
into butterflies or banshees or something of that sort, and we wouldn't
know anything about it until we had been changed. When we woke up we
should be in so different a form that we shouldn't know ourselves if we
were to look into a mirror."
"I know who that draped figure is now," exclaimed Patricia. "It's that
hateful Harriet Burrell. Isn't she silly and presuming?"
"Yes," was the reply. "I am amazed that Mrs. Livingston allows her to be
so forward. She and that McCarthy girl make an excellent team. One is as
tiresome as the other."
"I have heard," continued the ghost, "that this great and powerful banshee
came to America to look for the descendants of the banshees who made her
become one of them. It has even been hinted that she has been seen in the
Pocono Woods."
"Oh, my gracious!" exclaimed Hazel, glancing about her apprehensively.
"What if we should see her? I'd die of fright, I know I should."
"Fiddle! Who ith afraid of a banthhee?" jeered Grace. "Now if I thaw that
banthhee I'd jutht thtep on her with my heel, tho!" She dug her little
heel into the ground to show how she would crush the banshee.
Harriet might have been observed to gaze off into the forest almost
apprehensively herself now and then.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149