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"But Aunty's all so childish-like on my account, you see I'm 'most afeard she'll be took down an' 'at's what bothers ME! 'Cause ef my good ole Aunty ever would git sick an' die, I don't know what she'd do in Heaven till I come, by an' by: Fer she's so ust to all my ways, an' ever'thing, you know, An' no one there like me, to nurse an' worry over so!
When you employ a certain tone you intend to have your own way; but it isn't fair." "Don't take it to heart. I'll make another raid on you when I return, and then we shall soon be at the front together again. Aunty's lonely, you know." "Grace and I don't count, I suppose," said the major.
She made right straight for the door, dashed in atween old aunty's legs, and carries her out on her back, ridin' straddle-legs like a man, and tumbles her head over heels in the duck pond of dirty water outside, and then lays down along side of her, to put the fire out in its tail and cool itself.
It was like a rapid whirling dream, the journey, the steam cars, the arrival in New York, and Annie only seemed to wake up when she stood on the steamer's deck and felt the vessel throb and move away. On the wharf, among the throng of people who had come down to say good-by, stood Aunty's tall figure in her faded silk and ragged shawl, looking so different from any one else there.
"What makes you think he is likely to?" said Piet, dryly. There was a silence. Then he added: "When do you go?" "The the twenty-sixth, I believe. I've got aunty's consent I go with the Archibalds to San Francisco." "And this is ?" "The twentieth."
Susie clung timidly to her aunty's side as they passed through these clamorous candidates for holiday honors, and the young lady said, kindly, "You have a large family to look after, Zibbie, but I'm afraid we'll lessen it every day now." "Indeed, an' ye will, and it goes agin the grain to wring the necks of them that I've nursed from the shell," said the old woman, rather sharply.
D., of Dunfermline, my aunty's minister, nae less! He was en route to the Holy Land with his father-in-law; but we had several days together at Cairo, and talked upon many subjects, from theology to town affairs.
I boasted everywhere of my good luck, and sang her praises in Ernest's ears till he believed in her with all his heart. But one night we were out late; we had been spending the evening at Aunty's, and came in with Ernest's night-key as quietly as possible, in order not to arouse the children. I stole softly to the nursery to see if all was going on well there.
The whole place seemed to be suffocating. I had to talk. I'll tell you why; I wanted to go into the jungle and see what it is the palms hide back there at night. Isn't it ludicrous or ghastly whichever way you look at it?" "You aren't alone over there? Mrs. Livingstone is still there, isn't she?" "Yes, Aunty's still there. I'm safely chaperoned."
I didn't mean to stage any heart-throb piece, either; but it just happens that yesterday, when we pulls off the final act, Vee tells me that Helma is in the libr'y, playin' nurse and hairdresser to Aunty's chief pet, a big orange Persian that she calls Prince Hal. That's how Helma had won out with Aunty, you know, by makin' friends with the cat. "You tell her," says Vee.
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