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In vain they dressed her in fine clothes, in vain they talked to her and scolded her from morning till night, she continued to be the little convent-bred schoolgirl she had always been; with downcast eyes, pale as a flower that has known no sunlight, and timid to a point of suffering.
The boys tried very hard to please her, but if they brought nice pine wood she scolded them, and if they brought large dry reeds she said: "These are no good for my fire, for they leave too much ashes in the house." Try as they would, they failed to satisfy her; and their bodies grew very thin from working hard all day and from want of enough to eat.
Every evening the marquis inquired into his progress, and every evening the page confessed that he was no farther advanced than the day before; then the marquis scolded, threatened to take away his fine clothes, to withdraw his own promises, and finally to address himself to some other person.
Uncle Eb scolded him and tried to send him back, but I pleaded for the poor creature and that settled it, he was one of our party. 'Dunno how we'll feed him, said Uncle Eb. 'Our own mouths are big enough t' take all we can carry, but I hain' no heart t' leave 'im all 'lone there.
It was an India muslin trimmed with twelve little flounces edged with exquisite Valenciennes lace; the waist was made of alternate tucks and insertion, and trimmed with lace to match the skirt. This dress was unsuitable to the humble Madame Guérin it would be imprudent to appear in it. How indignant and angry I was with poor Blanchard! I scolded her all the time she was assisting me to put it on!
The bushels of unripe apples she had picked up there, and distributed among his pigs, till he had scolded her for giving them so much green trash. But now he began to make such a strange crowing noise, just like a chair drawn heavily and gratingly along a kitchen-floor! His eyes was open, but expressive of nothing but pain. "Mother's darling!" said Mary, in terror, lifting him up.
All the boys were in her class, save Tony. "O, she won't do for a teacher," said old Mrs. Jones, when the pastor invited Bertha to enter the Sunday-school as a worker. "Too flighty!" "She wont stick," growled Timothy Scriggins, a venerable male gossip, who scolded every body and every thing, satisfied only with Timothy Scriggins. However, she did do and she did stick.
I scolded that tramdriver on Harold's cross bridge for illusing the poor horse with his harness scab. Bad French I got for my pains. Of course it was frosty and the last tram. All tales of circus life are highly demoralising. It was I broke in the bucking broncho Ajax with my patent spiked saddle for carnivores. Lash under the belly with a knotted thong.
She was, however, hardest on herself, self-critical, scolded herself constantly because her house was never perfect, her work never done. She never had time to go out; she had become a veritable slave to a conscience that prodded her every time she read a book, took a nap, or went to a picture show.
"And I suppose you think Doctor Studdiford could find twenty wives as pretty and clever and charming as you are, Ju?" "Fifty!" Julia answered. "Well, now, that just shows what a little idiot you are!" Mrs. Marbury scolded. "Not but what most women feel that way sooner or later," she added, less severely. "I remember that phase very well, myself!
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