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That's one thing I think about goin'. I know she'll be tickled almost to death to see us comin' in. Mis' Field's a real good woman. There wa'n't anybody in town I set more by than I did by her." "When did you hear from her last, Mandy?" interposed Mrs. Babcock. "About a month ago." "I s'pose Lois is a good deal better?" "Yes, I guess she is. Her mother said she seemed pretty well for her.
Ringgan was asleep then, and I didn't know as it was going to be anything more after all than just a turn, such as anybody might take; and Mis' Plumfield went in and sot by him; and there wa'n't no one else in the room; and after a while he come to, and talked to her, she said, a spell; but he seemed to think it was something more than common ailed him; and all of a sudden he just riz up half way in bed, and then fell back and died, with no more warning than that."
"There was glasses on the tray, and a decanter of that cordial Direxia makes; it's too strong for a temperance household. Doctor Strong and that young Blyth girl were sitting on two stools, and they was all three playing cards! I suppose I looked none too well pleased, for Mis' Tree said, 'I can't have you turning my cordial sour, Ephraim Weight.
"Honey drip and women folks is sweet jest about the same and they both stick some when you're got your full of 'em at the time," philosophized the poet as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Say, Crabbie, don't tell Mis' Rucker I have come home yet, please. I want to go out and lay down in the barn on the hay and see if I can get that 'hair-despair' tangle straightened out.
"It must be true," he said, "what a French lady said to me at the table-d'hote dinner to-night: 'the Amerhicans always strhike the note of perhsonality." He neatly imitated the French lady's guttural accent. "I suppose we do," mused Mis. Bowen, "and that we don't mind it in each other.
I picked her from among five Miss Augusta Pernell had over to Burnt Island," said the old woman, trudging along with the kitten close at her skirts. "Augusta, she says to me, 'Why, Mis' Blackett, you've took and homeliest; and, says I, 'I've got the smartest; I'm satisfied."
Neither mother nor daughter slept a great deal during the night of Warwick's first visit. Mis' Molly anointed her sacrifice with tears and cried herself to sleep. Rena's emotions were more conflicting; she was sorry to leave her mother, but glad to go with her brother.
"I liked the old doctor who sent Daddy up here ever so much, and I liked Mrs. Darwin." "Mis' Darwin?" "She kept the house we lived in. She used to give me cookies," said Cynthia, "and bread to feed the pigeons." "Pigeons? F-folks keep pigeons in the city?"
Ain't she nice-looking, sort of, after all? And to think she can see now as good as anybody! Yes, that's her. "How do you do, Mis' Gage?" She spoke now aloud as Mary came toward them smiling. The dimples in her cheek, resurrected of late, gave a girlishness and tenderness to her face that it once had lacked in her illness. "I'm well, thank you, Mrs. Jensen. It's a glorious day, isn't it?
Her mother continued, in a loud, impressive tone: "Mis' Stetson something worked. She hasn't quite decided what, but she's goin' to let me know about it. Jane Watson " "You didn't go there, mother!" Mrs. Robinson treated her daughter to a contemptuous look. "I guess I've got sense.
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