Suppose she should fall off or the limb break. But
she wouldn't fall, she mustn't fall. Hark! There is the engine. If
she is going to save the train there is no time for further delay.
With a prayer for guidance and protection, slowly, oh so slowly, that
it seemed hours before she got there, Letty crawled out to the branch
and dangled below her, across the track, her flag of danger. She could
not see what was going on, because she dared not look down. So,
looking constantly up (and, children, believe me, "looking up" is one
of the best things you can do when in danger or trouble), and sending a
silent wordless petition for the safety of the train, Letty held her
precarious post. Hark, it is slowing up. Her balmoral has been seen
and the train is saved. The tension over, she cautiously turned and
crawled slowly back to land, and then dropped in a dead faint.
Recovering, however, she went slowly up to the house, trembling and
sick and shivering with the cold from the loss of the warm skirt
hanging on the clothes-line down in the ravine.
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