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“Better not stay out here too long,” said Dad “It’s hot”

Dad walked off I heard the back door slam

I staround “Darn,” I said

The screaain

She screa and now she began it all over, just for me

I stood in the e I ran back to the house and banged the door

“Dad, she’s screaain!”

“Sure, sure,” said Dad “Come on” And he led me to my upstairs bedroo on my head “Just take it easy”

I began to cry “Oh, Dad, we can’t let her die She’s all buried, like that person in that story by Edgar Allan Poe, and think hoful it is to be screa any attention”

“I forbid you to leave the house,” said Dad, worried “You just lie there the rest of the afternoon” He went out and locked the door I heard hi in the front rooot up and tiptoed to theMy rooh

I took a sheet off the bed and tied it to the bedpost and let it out theThen I cliround Then I ran to the garage, quiet, and I got a couple of shovels and I ran to the e, and all the while I dug, the Screa Woman screamed

It was hard work Shoving in the shovel and lifting the rocks and glass And I knew I’d be doing it all afternoon and maybe I wouldn’t finish in time What could I do? Run tell other people? But they’d be like Mo, all by myself

About ten h the eoes to my school

“Hi, Margaret,” he said

“Hi, Dippy,” I gasped