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For this had the shepherd of the village near Haerlem labored twenty years; for this had he spent the savings of those twenty years, in giving an education to this young nobleman. John was buried deep in these reveries too deep for his age when some one came up smiling to him. This was a little, fat, chubby-faced man, as round as a barrel, with a low brown hat on his head.
He was a small boy of nine years at that time, a chubby-faced little man with rosy cheeks, big hazel eyes, and clusters of curls the brown of ripe nuts. His mother was dead, his father was poor, and there were many mouths at home to feed.
Bradly, and two fat, chubby-faced children; and I do not think I ever enjoyed so pleasant a meal in my life. "After dinner was over, Mr. Bradly took me all through his house, which was new. He had just built it, and furnished it with every convenience that a man in mode. rate circumstances could desire. I was pleased with everything I saw, and praised everything with a hearty good will.
"The country needs him more even than we do," he said to himself. "It will be a hard trial to have him go, but it is our duty." "Will my little Charlie miss me when I am gone?" asked Mr. Frost of the chubby-faced boy who sat with great, round eyes peering into the fire, as if he were deeply engaged in thought. "Won't you take me with you, papa?" asked Charlie.
Thrust out of the opening in the canvas was a child's head, crowned with golden hair. There were women and children, then, in this ill-fated outfit! The Texan rode his horse over to the wagon and smiled at the youngster. It was a boy of three, chubby-faced and brown-eyed. "Hello, theah," Kid called. "What's yo' name?" The baby returned the smile, obviously interested in this picturesque stranger.
It was a copy of the Teacher's Bible! A silence fell upon the company near the front, broken suddenly by an old lady who leaned lovingly toward her chubby-faced grandson, and said: "Frankie, you must look in a few minutes and you will see the President of the United States."
He's older than me, but I can lick him." "And how old is Egbert?" asks the smiling senior. "Egbert's ten, and I'm nine, and Ethel's seven," replied the little chubby-faced hero, digging his hands deep into his trousers, and jingling all the sovereigns there.
Why, they were real friends, heart-warm to her there: when they laughed and cried with her, she knew it. Many of their faces she knew well: that pale lady's in the third box, who brought her boys so often, and gave them a bouquet to throw to Lizzy, always white flowers; and the old grandfather yonder, with the pretty, chubby-faced girls.
Pupil Godard, who was a chubby-faced fellow with sleepy eyes, rose automatically and in one single stream, like a running tap, recited, without stopping to take breath, "The Wolf and the Lamb," rolling off La Fontaine's fable like the thread from a bobbin run by steam.
Climbing the fence, for there was no gate, he pulled the latch-string and entered. They were all asleep; the hard-working family went to bed early. But chubby-faced Wilhelmina, the favorite sister, had set up to wait for August, and he now found her fast asleep in the chair. "Wilhelmina! wake up!" he said. "O August!" she said, opening the corner of one eye and yawning, "I wasn't asleep.
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