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"You tooked up my Beatrice by the neck, and it hurted her. She told me so. I don't want you for my dollie's nurse, or for my nurse, either." "Your nurse!" exclaimed Cricket. "I wouldn't be 'Liza for anything! I'd as soon take care of a straw in a high wind, as take care of you." Auntie Jean laughed, and drew Cricket down into her arms.
And the thrill within me, that I had helped a little toward this safety, brought a pleasure unlike any other joy I have ever known. "Where's Aunt Candace?" I asked Dollie Gentry, who had grasped my arm as if she would ring it from my shoulder. "Hadn't you heard?" Dollie's eyes filled with tears.
Now it seemed as if she must tell some one, and she wanted Him very, very badly. So she knelt and prayed, and though she cried nearly all the time she felt much happier when she got up. "I am so selfish. I am so sorry. Please help me!" was the burden of poor Dollie's prayer, but she got into bed feeling as if Jesus had understood, and fell asleep quite calmly. In the morning Dorothy awoke early.
Two houses adjoining one another one a handsome building and the other of humbler appearance had already been stripped of windows, doors, roofing, and rafters, and busy hands were now at work tearing down the walls. When Jüchziger so unmercifully destroyed Dollie's basket, he did not suspect that at that very moment the same fate was overtaking his wife's inheritance.
"Was she never heard of again?" the priest went on. We thought he was keeping Dollie's mind off O'mie. "Ner him neither. He cut out west toward Santy Fee with some Mexican traders goin' home from Westport. I heard he left 'em at Pawnee Rock, where they had a regular battle with the Kiowas; some thought he might have been killed by the Kiowas, and others by the Mexicans.
Marjie and O'mie and Mary Gentry, Cam and Dollie's only child, were my first Kansas playmates. Together we waded barefoot in the shallow ripples of the Neosho, and little by little we began to explore that wide, sweet prairie land to the west.
Why, as sure as I'm here, it is nothing in the world but a lumbering old iron hundred-weight, that the Swedes must have stolen out of some good Saxon's shop to batter our heads in Freiberg with. While the worthy miller was still expressing his astonishment over this new kind of missile, Dollie's father, the miner Roller, appeared coming down the street, grasping some heavy object with both hands.
The child nodded. "Why, these, of course," she declared with emphasis, pointing with her dollie's slippered foot at Captain Cy's pile. "So? Do, hey? Didn't know I could pick so well. All right; the first prize is mine. Who takes the second?" This time Bos'n deliberated before answering. At last, however, she bent forward and touched the teacher's gifts. "These," she said. "I like these next best."
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