'
Then rub them with the other half and say, 'One, two, three, four,
warts, never trouble me more.' Then bury the pertater and never
tell a living soul where you buried it. You won't have no more
warts. Mind you bury the pertater, though. If you don't, and
anyone picks it up, she'll get your warts."
CHAPTER XVIII
SARA RAY HELPS OUT
We all missed Aunt Olivia greatly; she had been so merry and
companionable, and had possessed such a knack of understanding
small fry. But youth quickly adapts itself to changed conditions;
in a few weeks it seemed as if the Story Girl had always been
living at Uncle Alec's, and as if Uncle Roger had always had a
fat, jolly housekeeper with a double chin and little, twinkling
blue eyes. I don't think Aunt Janet ever quite got over missing
Aunt Olivia, or looked upon Mrs. Hawkins as anything but a
necessary evil; but life resumed its even tenor on the King farm,
broken only by the ripples of excitement over the school concert
and letters from Aunt Olivia describing her trip through the land
of Evangeline. We incorporated the letters in Our Magazine under
the heading "From Our Special Correspondent" and were very proud
of them.
At the end of June our school concert came off and was a great
event in our young lives.
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