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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Honey, honey!" remonstrated Aunt Cindy, "you know dat dawg !" But a quick glance from his father silenced this feminine outburst. "All right, old scout," said Earle gravely. "Just as you say. We'll go back to the house now; and we'll see to it that Frank doesn't kill any more chickens." Tommy took a deep breath; he could hardly believe his ears.
She frowned when she saw him. He began jocularly. "Oh, thank you, I can wait till it bakes. No trouble at all." "Well, it's a good deal of trouble to me to have you standin' there gappin' at me!" "Ain't gappin' at you. I'm waitin' for the pie." "'Tain't pie; it's cake." "Oh, well, cake'll do for a change. Say, 'Cindy-" "Don't call me 'Cindy!" "Well, Lucindy.
I have no idea what their party affiliation is or who they voted for in the last election, but they represent what we ought to be doing. Cindy Perry teaches second-graders to read in AmeriCorps in rural Kentucky. She gains when she gives. She's a mother of four. She says that her service inspired her to get her high school equivalency last year. She was married when she was a teen-ager.
"I have written several papers on the early Scandinavian settlers in the northwest. You might be surprised to learn that only twenty years after the first settlement . . . " "Rolf, you fine driver, you." Audrey, or Monica, came up and put her hand on Rolf's arm. "Cindy and Jake are at the ferry." Rolf nodded. "And Kate needs a jar of capers." "A Mediterranean condiment. I'm on my way.
So now he laughingly shrugged his shoulders and started to the kitchen, while Lloyd followed Betty up-stairs to change her slippers for heavy-soled walking-boots. A few minutes later the three were hurrying down the avenue to the gate, under the bare windswept branches of the locusts. "Aunt Cindy had disappeared temporarily," said Rob.
Pete, big and heavy as a turkey gobbler, was flopping round and round when they reached him, beating the ground with lusty wings, sliding his limp head along the dirt, acting crazy generally, as if Aunt Cindy had wrung his neck. "Aw, get up!" said Tommy. But Pete did not get up, and, sobered, the boy glanced around.
When Gordon saw her he recognized her instantly as the tot who had given her doll to the little dancer two years before. Her eyes could not be mistaken. She used to drive about in the tiniest of village carts, drawn by the most Liliputian of ponies, and Gordon used to call her "Cindy," short for Cinderella, which amused and pleased her.
Her name is Mollie. Dave Branham, you will recall, is her sweetheart. The other big sister had to stay at home with her mother and little Cindy, who's sick. Of course, I didn't ask them about Mart the Wild Dog. They knew I knew and they wouldn't have liked it. The Wild Dog's around, I understand, but he won't dare show his face. Every policeman in town is on the lookout for him."
"Oh, darling, the loving itself helps," answered the singer lady quickly with the mist over her eyes. "I believe it do," answered Eliza thoughtfully. "I hold the Deacon's other hand when he sets by Mis' Bostick! He wants me, and she smiles at us both. I don't like to leave 'em for one single minute. I have to wait now for Cindy to get the dinner done, but then I'm a-going to run.
He had glanced back wistfully at the big white house, hoping in the absence of the boy's father and mother to attract the attention of old Aunt Cindy the cook to the fact that Tommy was running away. But old Aunt Cindy was nowhere to be seen. There was no one to catch his signals of distress. There was no one to see Tommy enter the corn.
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