with　megaphones。　I　remember　the　fire　brigade；

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and　some　guy　saying　it　was　his　blasted　tree　and　I'd　darn　well　better　get　out　of　it。

Somebody　tracked　down　my　mother；　who　cried　and　pleaded　and　acted　not　at　all　the　way　a

sensible　mother　should；　but　I　was　not　ing　down。　I

was　not　ing　down。

Then　my　father　came　racing　up。　He　jumped　out　of　his　pickup　truck；　and　after　talking　with　my

mother　for　a　few　minutes；　he　got　the　guy　in　the　cherry

picker　to　give　him　a　lift　up　to　where　I　was。　After　that　it　was　all　over。　I　started　crying　and　tried

to　get　him　to　look　out　over　the　rooftops；　but　he　wouldn't。

He　said　that　no　view　was　worth　his　little　girl's　safety。

He　got　me　down　and　he　took　me　home；　only　I　couldn't　stay　there。　I　couldn't　stand　the　sound

of　chain　sa