The Missing Book by Lois Gladys Leppard Read Free Book Online

long, long time ago,” he said, frowning thoughtfully.
    â€œCould I read some of your poems, Daddy?” Mandie asked.
    Mr. Shaw cleared his throat. “They’re not available right now.” He tried to be serious.
    Mandie laughed. “Well, when they are available could I read some of them?”
    â€œI suppose so, if I am allowed to read some of yours when
they
are available,” Mr. Shaw replied.
    Mandie started giggling, and Mr. Shaw burst out laughing. And at that moment Mrs. Shaw came into the kitchen.
    â€œMy, my, what’s so funny this early in the morning, and with snow on the way besides?” she asked as she took a cup down from the cupboard.
    Mr. Shaw immediately stood up and reached for the cup. “Sit down. I’ll get your coffee,” he told her, going to the stove to fill the cup.When he looked at Mandie, she tried to send him a silent signal not to tell her mother about the poetry. He seemed to understand.
    â€œYou may be right about that snow coming,” Mr. Shaw told Mrs. Shaw.
    â€œWon’t make much difference today. We’ve got all that sewing to do,” Mrs. Shaw replied.
    â€œWill we get it all done today?” Mandie asked.
    â€œA big part of it, I suppose,” Mrs. Shaw said. “With the days getting longer now, we can do some more on afternoons when you girls don’t have much homework. Now, you run upstairs and wake your sister and I’ll see about getting breakfast started.” She stood up.
    â€œYes, ma’am,” Mandie replied. She quickly left the room and climbed the ladder upstairs.
    â€œIrene, wake up. Mama said for you to get up,” Mandie told her sister as she reached to pat her legs under the covers.
    Irene rolled away from her. “I’ll get up in a little while.” She turned over.
    â€œIrene, it looks like it’s going to snow,” Mandie said.
    Irene opened her eyes and sat up. “Snow? It’s not going to snow.” She stared out the window. “Is it?”
    â€œDaddy thinks it might.” Mandie started toward the ladder. “Now, don’t go back to sleep. Mama is cooking breakfast.” She looked back. Irene was still sitting there, looking out the window.
    Mandie returned to the kitchen. “I woke her,” she said.
    â€œNow get the dishes down and set the table, Amanda,” Mrs. Shaw said, filling a pot with water and setting it on the cookstove.
    Mr. Shaw was rolling out the dough for biscuits on the cabinet top. Mandie was hoping he had not mentioned her poems to her mother. As she placed the plates on the table, her father glanced at her and winked. She smiled back, hoping that was the signal that he had not discussed their conversation with her mother.
    After breakfast was over and the table was cleared, Mrs. Shaw told the girls to bring down some of their summer dresses from the closet upstairs. Then she measured the length of the dresses. Mandie had grown only a couple of inches since last summer, and the deep hems on her dresses could be let down. But Irene had grown at least six inches, and even after the hems had been ripped out, her dresses were too short.
    â€œWe’ll just have to add a frill around the bottom of that one to make it long enough,” Mrs. Shaw told Irene as she stood there in a pale blue cotton dress.
    â€œA frill? Won’t that look tacky?” Irene asked, frowning as she looked down at her skirt.
    â€œNo, because I’ll put a ruffle around the neck to match it. Why, people will think you’ve got a new dress,” Mrs. Shaw replied.
    Mandie was busy ripping out the hem on one of her dresses.
    â€œAnd, Amanda, we only need to let half of that hem down to make your dress long enough,” Mrs. Shaw told her.
    â€œI’m glad my dress had such a big hem,” Mandie remarked, finally getting to the end of the ripping.
    Mr. Shaw had been out to the barn. Now he came back into the kitchen, blowing on his