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"Your skirt's in the water," Edith warned her; "hitch it up, and 'come on in the water's fine!" She shook her head, and turned to climb up the bank. "'The King of France," Edith quoted, satirically, "'marched down a hill, and then marched up again!" Eleanor was silent.
"You see, the skirt's quite broad," interrupted Nancy, anticipating objections and endeavoring to spread the skirt to the full limit of its yard and a quarter. "Just about as broad as one trouser leg," teased Ben. Nancy ignored the remark, and the pheasant's feather in her hat seemed to quiver with indignation. "Where's the crook?" asked Mary politely. "I'm her crook," put in Percy.
"You just want to grab it off, right after dinner, and leave it in front of some skirt's house all evening while you sit and gas about lite'ature and the highbrows you're going to marry if they only propose!" "Well, Dad oughtn't to EVER let you have it! You and those beastly Jones boys drive like maniacs. The idea of your taking the turn on Chautauqua Place at forty miles an hour!"
He only does it because things are getting so tight between him and Vera that he's glad of anything that relaxes the strain a bit. Even us. He's snappier than ever with Ronny. I can't think how the poor kid stands it. You know that ripping white serge coat and skirt you sent me? Well, the skirt's not nearly long enough. It doesn't matter a bit though, because I can keep it for hockey.
Every time she moves her head she gets it on one side, and her skirt's too long behind and too short in front and oh, I've NEVER seen such FEET!" Alice laughed desolately. "And she MUST quit that terrible chewing!" "Never mind; I'll get to work with her. I'll straighten her out all I can, dearie; don't worry." Mrs. Adams patted her daughter's shoulder encouragingly.
"That skirt's well-cut," said Miss Gibbs, surveying her cousin critically. "Blue serge always looks well and that white blouse is good thick silk." "I'm glad you like it. Owen likes me in these low collars, and they're cool." Toni looked at the clock. "But come upstairs and take off your hat and we'll have tea straight away."
The soft, creamy-tinted fingers occupied his attention for a moment; the hand resembled the hand of "quality"; so did the ankle and delicate arch of her naked foot, half imprisoned in the coarse shoe under her skirt's edge. He had often heard that some of these mountaineers had pretty children; here, evidently, was a most fascinating example. "Is your mother living?" he asked pleasantly.
Dollops had made that discovery long ago and had put his conclusions regarding it into the mournfully-uttered sentence: "A skirt's got him!" But, after one violent pang of fierce and rending jealousy, was grateful to that "skirt" for bringing happiness to the man he loved above all other things upon earth and whose welfare was the dearest of his heart's desires.
Gang for the brandy to your twa John Gourla's. We're a pair for a woman to be proud of!" He gazed after his wife as she tottered to the pantry. "Your skirt's on the gape, auld wife," he sang; "your skirt's on the gape; as use-u-al," he drawled; "as use-u-al. It was always like that; and it always scunnered me, for I aye liked things tidy though I never got them.
Skirt's a trifle short, perhaps," she added, sticking out a leg and examining the effect critically, "but upper's eminently satisfactory." Julie leaned over and prodded her. "No corsets?" she inquired innocently. "Julie, you're positively indecent. You must have tamed your padre completely. You're not married by any chance?" she added suddenly. Julie screamed with laughter.
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