She saw the shabby little house, but she didn't hurry by.

They found out it was way the very same house, so they went to the Movers to see if the little House could be moved.

Once upon a time, there was a pretty little house way out in the country.

She watched the grass turn green.

At night, she used to dream of the country and the field of daisies and the apple trees dancing in the moonlight.

The small house had come to look shabby, though it was just as good as ever underneath.

She couldn't be sold for gold or silver, so she just stayed there and watched.

In the spring, when the days grew longer and the sun warmer, she waited for the first robin to return from the south.

Traffic and passers-by stopped as they were slowly seen off from the little village.

In the long summer days she sat in the sun and watched the trees cover themselves with leaves, and the white daisies cover the hill.

It was a pretty little house, strong and well-built.

Please remember me to all your family.

Tom said that I could spend the night at his place.