The yearly Christmas tale continues

    We continue the Christmas story:
    We left Ann lying in the snow, while the big hound dog continued to bark at her. When the door opened to the old farm house, light spilled onto the snow and the dog bounded up the steps to stand by a slightly bent old lady. “Come in out of the snow before you catch your death, and I lose more heat.”
    “Hi, my name is Ann Trout, and my folks live in the big white house on Duck Slough Lane. I’m trying to get home for Christmas and my car stalled at the end of your lane. I suppose I’ll miss Christmas since it’s late now and my car won’t run. You don’t have a telephone, do you?” Ann asked all in one breath.

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