Explore "Angel's Christmas" by O.F. Walton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
FROM morning till night, poor Mrs. Blyth was hard at work with her great mangle.
It was a very dismal room; no one could call it anything else. The window was very small, several of the panes patched together with pieces of brown paper, and the dust and the spiders had been very busy trying how much sunshine they could keep from coming into the gloomy little room.