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Updated: May 24, 2025
And when little Isabel cries for her mamma, Miss Lucy's just as nice to her, and cuddles her p so sweet! The ward must be kept quiet." Dr. Dudley laughed. Then the said gravely: "Do you think that is really fair to accuse Miss Price of what she may never do? Besides, Polly, it is n't quite respectful." "No, I suppose it is n't," the little girl admitted. "Excuse me, please.
"So we should do unto others as we'd be done by, shouldn't we?" A vague memory returned to Mrs. Procter. What was it Suzanna had once said? "Mrs. Procter cuddles all children in her heart." And Suzanna and Maizie stood watching her, asking a literal translation of a principle laid down for man's guidance. "We'll see what can be done," Mrs. Procter answered finally.
It is only your pseudo-saint, who cuddles himself for the pulpit and the platform, and keeps the safety-valve down with midnight sittings while "rosining up" the furnaces with strong coffee, that will come to grief by collapse of flues. If a man, whether sinner or saint, will run races for the honor of being the fastest boat in the river of popular favor, he must take the consequences.
I looked up into the eyes of a lady ten times sweeter when? somewhen! I've lost dates. But here's the girl at me again. She cuddles into me slips her hand into my breast and tugs at strings there. I can't help talking to you about her, now we've got over the first step. I'll soon give it up. "She wore a red ribbon? If it had been Spring, you'd have seen roses.
Cuddles, you broke the chain enough for me to think again! We've been blind the whole damned planet has been blind." She blinked and then frowned. "Bruce " "I'm all right! I'm just half sane instead of all insane for a change." He got up, pacing the floor as he talked. "Look, most of the people here are Martians. They've left Earth behind, and they're meeting this planet on its own terms.
The misery that to-night in the cellar cuddles up in the straw is not so utter as the princely disquietude which stalks through splendid drawing-rooms, brooding over the slights and offences of high life. The bitterness of trouble seems not so unfitting, when drunk out of a pewter mug, as when it pours from the chased lips of a golden chalice.
"Why, they cuddles and makes a fuss over a boy as is a reg'lar noosance about the place, just as any other varmint would be. Wish he had drowned himself. What call was there for me to come and bring a rake!" "Ah, he's a rum un, that he is," said Peter. "And master's a rum un; and how they can take to that boy, Miss Helen specially, and have him here's more'n I can understand.
And you stop just as soon as they can walk around." "Mrs. Procter cuddles all children in her heart," said Suzanna loyally. "She'd wear her arms out if she cuddled all of us all the time." Maizie didn't answer that. But when little Daphne finally left Mrs. Procter's sheltering clasp and went away to play with the children, Maizie still hovered about her mother.
Ay, lay down your arms and bend the suppliant knee, sheathe your useless sword, and hush to soothing whisper the voice that thundered in command a week agone; hide away with noiseless hand the heavy boot and clinking spur; off with belt and buckle and scratching shoulder-strap, and don your softest dressing-gown and creakless slipper; submit to search for pins and needles you never carried; promise you will only talk just so much, and stay only just so long, and will sit only just in such a place and won't attempt to agitate her, "for we must still be very, very careful," and at last you are admitted, and you kneel by the white bed and hear the rapturous ecstasy of welcome in her faint voice, and read of her sacred martyrdom in the white cheek and fragile hand, and glory in the pride and joy of that wondering, wonderful mother-look in the great, deep, lustrous eyes, and kiss again the warm, sweet lips that are heaven's nectar to the thirst of yours; and then and then there is revealed to you that little, wrinkled, ruddy head, all folds and puckers and creases, all the redder and uglier for contrast with the snowy bosom in which it twists and burrows, and those expressionless, saucer-blue, liquid, blinking little eyes, and tiny upturned nose, and puckering, gurgling, querulous mouth, all that is visible from the folds of the white blanket worn as only Indian and baby can wear one; and you are bidden to declare that he is the very, very image of you, bless his honeyed lips! and then you must take him one minute, nurse must let her see Jack with his baby boy in his arms! and though fearful, you assent, and with reverent, prayerful gratitude, you receive your first-born to your heart, and thank God for the infinite mercy that has brought her, the sweet young wife and mother, through her deadly peril, and then you would kiss the helpless, staring, blinking, little blanket-framed face; but at first touch of those bristling moustaches a powerful spasm has convulsed the tiny features, and a vehement, plaintive, wailing protest bursts from the contorted lips, and then your son and heir is snatched away, and you stand like convicted felon, while nursey dandles and tosses and condoles and condones and cuddles.
Do you know what percentage survived?" "Doesn't work very well," said the doctor, shaking a thoughtful head over his pipe. "Just one hundred per cent didn't survive!" said Mrs. Burgoyne. "Now they take a foundling or an otherwise unfortunate baby, and give it to a real live mother. She nurses it if she can, she keeps near to it and cuddles it, and loves it. And so it lives.
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