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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"The Crusade of the Excelsior"

To her relief she discerned that a
number of Indian children had approached them from behind and had halted
a few paces from the cross. Their hands were full of flowers and shells
as they stood hesitatingly watching the couple.
"They are some of the school-children," said Hurlstone, in answer to her
inquiring look; "but I can't understand why they come here so openly."
"Oh, don't scold them!" said Eleanor, forgetting her previous orthodox
protest; "let us go away, and pretend we don't notice them."
But as she was about to rise to her feet the hesitation of the little
creatures ended in a sudden advance of the whole body, and before she
comprehended what they were doing they had pressed the whole of their
floral tributes in her lap. The color rose again quickly to her laughing
face as she looked at Hurlstone.
"Do you usually get up this pretty surprise for visitors?" she said
hesitatingly.
"I assure you I have nothing to do with it," he answered, with frank
amazement; "it's quite spontaneous. And look--they are even decorating
ME."
It was true; they had thrown a half dozen strings of shells on
Hurlstone's unresisting shoulders, and, unheeding the few words he
laughingly addressed them in their own dialect, they ran off a few
paces, and remained standing, as if gravely contemplating their work.


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