Friendship -- Fiction
Though it was only five-thirty, supper was over in the yellow station-house at Silver Thistle. Nevada Buckley, singing as merrily as the nightingale, had put away the broom and the floor mop, in the regular task of helping her mother keep the little house tidy. Through the ope...
Though it was only five-thirty, supper was over in the yellow station-house at Silver Thistle. Nevada Buckley, singing as merrily as the nightingale, had put away the broom and...
2. Part 2“It is certainly a pretty name. And now that we are fully acquainted, you’ll call me Nevada, or ‘Neva,’ if you like, just as do father and mother and Jerry Kerrigan.”
3. Part 3“Easy, Bill, easy!” one of the other two cautioned. “Keep your boots on. You ought to know that with the exception of that woman and the two girls over at the station-house, the...