held up, father." The coaxing weathercock[** no hyphen, see 027.png]
now had a green arm around the
neck of the man in the long, drab coat.
"And I just couldn't give up going! I'm
becoming such a daring ski-runner, Daddy-man;
you'll be proud of me when you
see! Why! I can almost herring-bone
uphill; and I'm getting the kick-turn
'down fine.' Darting, gliding, stemming,
jumping downhill--oh! it's such perfect
fun, such creamy fun; I'm not a
girl any longer, I'm just a swallow."

"One swallow doesn't make a summer;
all this doesn't change the weather." The
inventor glanced anxiously through a window.

"No, but it's such a very short train-*run.
Pouf! only six miles on the two
o'clock express bound north, why--why!
the very train that you and I will be taking,
later, Daddy-man, along in May, when
you try out experiments with that little
model rocket you're working on now,
upon old Mount Greylock--highest
[[18]]

p017 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p018w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p019

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