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The towel and handkerchiefs were also very beautiful, but what use could they be put to? "Oh, your majesty, to wipe the mouth after drinking pombe." "Of course," is the reply "excellent; I won't use a mbugu napkin any more, but have one of these placed on my cup when it is brought to drink, and wipe my mouth with it afterwards. But what does Bana want?" "The road to Gani," says Bombay for me.
Next, the patient must be sweated, to open up the pores of the skin, and for this nothing equals the wet sheet pack. Roll the patient in a sheet wrung out of cold water, on top of this a couple of blankets and a comfortable. At his feet place hot bricks in flannel, on his head a towel, wrung out of cold water. Give him plenty of fresh air.
Goodness! why, you've more pomatums, oils, and soaps than any court beauty!" There was some truth in this latter charge, for Ben and Creamer, after washing and a very gingerly use of the towel, anointed their flaming visages with almond oil.
Again discovering that a few were imperfectly cleaned and wiped, he repaired the defect with cold water and a towel without the least thought of the operation being degrading. He had finished his task in half an hour; she had not returned; why should he not go on and set the table?
In order to economize time, he pulled his best clothes over his working garments, and hastily rubbing his face and hands with a coarse towel, he hurried towards the church. Within ten minutes he was back again loading up coal, his better half being occupied in preparing dinner.
Across his arm lay a towel and in his other hand was their small first-aid kit. "Suppose we do a little patching," he suggested. "Your face at present is not all it might be. What did you and your swamp friend do run into a mowing machine?" He swabbed delicately at the cut the Boss had opened across Val's cheek-bone, and at another by his mouth.
When I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.”
"Thank you," Jurgen replied, making a sincere effort at politeness. He went back up and got a set of sheets and a towel, then made his bed. Afterwards, he sat on the edge of the bed and opened his valise. It contained underwear, a well-used black suit with tails, a silk shirt, a silk hat, soap and shaving kit, and sheaf after sheaf of printed music.
"Humph!" as he thrust his tousled head into the cupboard, and searched for butter, and ran his dirty hands all over the clean, bare shelves "well, this will keep me from starving." So he rolled the towel as tightly as he could over the bread, and slouched off, shaking his fist at Joel with a parting scowl. "Now, Phronsie, I can't play another single time," said Polly. "I must see where Joel is."
Stop it!" "I I can't!" was all Freddie said. The next moment Mr. Bobbsey, followed by his wife, had reached the kitchen. There they saw a queer sight. In the middle of the floor stood Flossie and Freddie, water dripping from their hands and faces. Dinah, too, was wet, and she was fairly flying around, with a plate in one hand and a dish towel in the other.
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