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She cried as a child cries, with spasms of sobbing, her pretty mouth spoiled, stretched wide, working, like india-rubber; dull red blotches creeping up to the brown stains about her eyes. Her tears splashed on to the fine, black silk web of the sock and sparkled there. Emilius had gone from the room, leaving the door open. Mary got up and shut it. She stood, hesitating.
"You are such a comfort, Christine," she declared one day when the girl handed her back a sock with a dropped stitch deftly picked up. "Your mother is a fortunate woman. I wish I had a daughter like you!" Christina's cheeks grew scarlet, and she was thankful that the clatter of sewing machines and the noise of Mrs. Johnnie Dunn's orders secured them from being overheard.
She had eight children, too, and they all of them turned out badly. I used to go there off and on; I think she looked on me as a kind of sinful amusement. Anyhow, she told me the world was going to ruin, and the women were poor 'doless' creatures, who couldn't spin a hank of yarn, or gin a pound of cotton, or heel a sock.
Viola, mending a little sock, caught a glimpse of flying skirts and flying braids. "Them red-haired folks certainly is tempestuous, but they's gitters," she remarked to herself philosophically, and went on with her mending. Outside, Phyllis looked at Allan and Allan looked at Phyllis. There didn't seem much to say about it.
Do you charge him with disloyalty? him the hero of Quebec, of Long Island, and of Monmouth? him the very sword hand of Washington?" This flourish of rhetoric added an extra inch to the length of Jim Sweet's craned neck. "Sock it to 'em!" he tried to shout, but his phthisicky effort ended in a spell of coughing. "Order in the court!" shouted the clerk, fixing the disturber with threatening eye.
On the mud lie some loose, knotted, soot-colored cords. One could take them for threads of wool like those which you pull out of an old ravelly stocking. Can some shepherdess, knitting a black sock and finding her work turn out badly, have begun all over again and, in her impatience, have thrown down the wool with all the dropped stitches? It really looks like it.
It was all accomplished so speedily, that it seemed but a medley of heels, of wildly cavorting mule, of scrambling, falling men. "Fire!" I cried excitedly. "Sock it into them, lads, and follow me!" There was a quick outburst of flame, a thunderous report, and, without waiting to see or hear more, I sprang forward through the dense smoke, and raced madly toward the front door.
While the sergeant was busy removing a legging and unlacing a shoe Captain Holmes glanced up the road to discover that the battalion was counter-marching. "Be quick about it, Sergeant," Greg urged. Moving no faster than he had to, Mock took off his shoe, then slowly turned the sock down, peeling it off. "Is that the worst foot?" Greg demanded, in astonishment.
Despite his efforts, the hands which loosened the buttons trembled uncontrollably. Following the vest came the shirt, then a shoe, and the sock beneath. His foot touched the snow. For the first time a faint realization of the thing he was choosing came to him.
"No," said the "gink," timidly, "I have only five hundred in my sock; that will be as much as my pack will carry." "Exactly; that is just right. You see, you are buying a thousand dollars worth of goods with only five hundred dollars worth of cash. The shares are fifty dollars each, with a cash payment of twenty-five dollars, and the balance subject to call.
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