Only one McGinnis was in sight -- Tony , aged eight , who was perched up on the edge of the well box , swinging his legs and singing at the top of his melodious Irish voice . All at once , just as we were looking at him , Tony went over backward and apparently tumbled head foremost down his father 's well . Kate and I screamed simultaneously . We tore across the kitchen , flung open the door , plunged down over Aunt Susanna 's yard , scrambled over the fence and flew to the well . Just as we reached it , Tony 's red head appeared as he climbed serenely out over the box . I do n't know whether I felt more relieved or furious . He had merely fallen on the blank guard inside the box : and there are times when I am tempted to think he fell on purpose because he saw Kate and me looking out at the window . At least he did n't seem at all frightened , and grinned most impishly at us . Kate and I turned on our heels and marched back in as dignified a manner as was possible under the circumstances . Half way up Aunt Susanna 's yard we forgot dignity and broke into a run . We had left the door open and the McGinnis dog had disappeared . Never shall I forget the sight we saw or the smell we smelled when we burst into that kitchen . There on the floor was the McGinnis dog and what was left of Aunt Susanna 's Thanksgiving turkey . As for the smell , imagine a commingled odor of scorching turnips and burning mince pies , and you have it . The dog fled out with a guilty yelp . I groaned and snatched the turnips off . Kate threw open the oven door and dragged out the pies . Pies and turnips were ruined as irretrievably as the turkey . `` Oh , what shall we do ? '' I cried miserably .
I knew Margaret 's chance XXXXX college was gone forever .
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