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Updated: May 2, 2025
After we had started on our journey from the cell house to the hospital building to see the doctor, and had got out of hearing of the officer, I said, "Injun, what's the matter with you?" This question being asked, he began to "boo-hoo" worse than ever, and, rubbing his breast and sides with his hands, said, between his sobs, "Me got pecce ecce."
William now varied the proceedings by emptying the jar of jam on to Cuthbert's face and hair. They were separated at last by the prompter and stage manager, while the audience rose and cheered hysterically. But louder than the cheering rose the sound of Cuthbert's lamentation. "He'th a nathty, rough boy! He puthed me down. He'th methed my nith clotheth. Boo-hoo!"
"It is Uncle Squeaky!" cried Limpy-toes. "He's coming up the elevator," decided Silver Ears. "Oh, how lovely to have a visit from Uncle Squeaky on a snow-stormy night!" and the twins ran a race to the attic entrance. "Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer. The little Graymouse children greeted Uncle Squeaky gleefully.
Buster listened sleepily. Now and then he rubbed his stomach. "Were you lonely, Buster?" asked his mother. "No, ma'am." "Did you have a good nap?" "Yes, ma'am." "Are you sick, child?" she demanded, anxiously. "Yes, Mammy," wailed Buster. "It seems as if my little jacket would burst! Boo-hoo!" Mother Graymouse hastened to get him a hot drink, but poor Buster rolled and tossed upon his little bed.
I used to long to throw myself in her lap and boo-hoo on her shoulder! I've made it all up with her since, though! There's Grandfather now! Come up to the veranda, all of you, because he's not strong enough yet to walk on the sand." They hurried up to the house and got there in time for Eileen to make the introductions.
The cupboard door was ajar, and even before Mother Graymouse had put Baby Squealer in his cradle, or taken off her bonnet, she caught sight of the heap of Christmas candies and the popcorn, which looked like a white snow-bank upon the cupboard shelf. "Sniff! Sniff!" Out came Mammy's handkerchief as she sank into her rocking chair, bonnet, baby and all. "Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer.
"I've lost the papers," blurted Charley, wanting to cry. "What?" His father and Mr. Grigsby stared at him. "You don't mean it!" "Yes. I lost them, or somebody took them." And Charley did begin to cry. "I went in swimming and left my shoes in the cabin. And when I came back the papers were gone. Boo-hoo." "Pshaw!" muttered Mr. Grigsby. "Well, don't cry about it," spoke his father, sharply.
And then she will say, 'Where did mamma and Tattah go? and he will wave his precious little square hand and say, 'Big boat, and she says he tries to say, 'Way off' and, oh, dear, we are 'way off' " "Stop talking, you fiend," said my sister, from the depths of her handkerchief. "You know I look like a fright when I cry." "Boo-hoo," was my only reply. And once started, I couldn't stop.
The poor animal had its face covered with both its front paws and was crying so bitterly that the tears coursed down its cheeks in two tiny streams and trickled across the road, where they formed a pool in a small hollow. The Sawhorse stopped short at this pitiful sight, and Dorothy cried out, with ready sympathy: "What's the matter, Kangaroo?" "Boo-hoo!
Here was a large floor almost covered with wounded, and among them a woman stumbled about weeping, wailing, boo-hooing and wringing her hands; I caught her wrist, and said: "What is the matter?" "Oh! oh! oh! Boo-hoo! boo-hoo! the poor fellow is goin' to die an' wants me to write to his mother." "Well, write to her and keep quiet! you need not kill all the rest of them because he is going to die."
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