Lonely Placesby Francis Buzzell
Format of Original Source: Short Story
Recommended Adaptation Length: Two Hours
Candidate for Adaptation? Not Reviewed
The children were unnaturally still when Abbie came out of the clothes-press. They did not rush forward to get the cookies. Abbie looked quickly at the tree; the pail of cookies dropped from her hands. She grabbed the two children nearest and shook them until their heads bumped together. Then she drove them all in front of her to the door and down the path to the gate, which she slammed shut behind them.
Once outside the gate the children ran, yelling: “Ab-bie Sno-ver, na–aa–ah! Ab-bie Sno-ver, na–aa–ah!”
Abbie, her hands trembling, her eyes hot, went back into the house. That was what came of letting them take fruit from the trees and vines in the yard; of giving them cookies every time they rang her door-bell. Well, there would be no more cookies, and Old Chris should be told never to let them come into the yard again.
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