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"You are only making an excuse to be after that big goose of a girl, Socquard's daughter," said Marie Tonsard, giving Bonnebault a slap on the shoulder that made his lungs hum. Just then a verse of an old Burgundian Christmas carol was heard: "One fine moment of his life Was at the wedding feast; He changed the water into wine, Madeira of the best."
Her little lad had been a choir boy, perhaps these were his one-time comrades. The second verse of the carol rang out sweetly: "Holy night! Peaceful night! Only for shepherds' sight Came blest visions of angel throngs, With their loud Hallelujah songs, Saying, Jesus is come!" Suddenly it seemed to the distracted mother that her own boy's voice blended with those others.
"A true story," said Nevius decidedly. "Um-hum. Lover was alone in the woods, wasn't he? How did his friends find out about those midnight spirits that came and killed him?" The girls brightened. "Yes, of course," chirped Carol. "How did folks find out? "Say, be reasonable," begged Nevius. "Spoiling another good story. I say it is a true tale, and I ought to know.
Und Ay suspect strongly that my partner out at das stables, Carol Linescu, sviped das Earl's cuff-buttons. Ay saw das rascal hiding someding in das hay up in the loft last evening, und Ay bet you, by Golly, that if you yump on him, you vill find that he is das tief. So!" And the fat little coachman looked around with a cherubic smile on his face. "All right, Yensie, maybe we will. You're excused.
"Any plans for the afternoon, girlies?" she asked now, when the forced strawberries were on the table, and little Florence was trying to eat the nuts out of her cake, and at the same time carefully avoid the cake itself and the frosting. "What's Carol doing, M'ma?" "When M'ma asks you a question, Isabelle, do not answer with another question, dear.
As she went dragging through the prickly-hot street she reflected that a citizen of Gopher Prairie does not have jests he has a jest. Every cold morning for five winters Lyman Cass had remarked, "Fair to middlin' chilly get worse before it gets better." Fifty times had Ezra Stowbody informed the public that Carol had once asked, "Shall I indorse this check on the back?"
He ran into Fairy coming out the kitchen door, and they glanced quickly at each other. "Hurry, papa," she whispered, "you can't hold in much longer! Neither can I!" And together, choking with laughter, they hurried into the barn and gave full vent to their feelings. So it was that the twins and Connie were alone for a while. "You did a pretty good job, Connie," said Carol approvingly. "Yes.
No sound greeted me from the ripening orchards, save the carol of birds; from the fields came no note of harvest labor. No animals were visible, nor sound of any. No hum of life. All nature lay asleep in voluptuous beauty, veiled in a glorious atmosphere. Everything wore a dreamy look. The breeze had a loving, lingering touch, not unlike to the Indian Summer of North America.
I knew you couldn't be guilty, and I'm surer than ever of it now. Here we are, as blooming as a daisy." "How does a respectable matron look when she feels guilty?" Carol sounded resentful. "Why Oh, it would show! Besides! I know that you, of all people, are the one that can appreciate Dr. Will." "What have you been hearing?" "Nothing, really. I just heard Mrs.
The Smails were to occupy the Kennicott house, and quite the hardest thing to endure in the month of waiting was the series of conferences between Kennicott and Uncle Whittier in regard to heating the garage and having the furnace flues cleaned. Did Carol, Kennicott inquired, wish to stop in Minneapolis to buy new clothes? "No! I want to get as far away as I can as soon as I can.
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