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Updated: May 26, 2025
Flippin went out to find Mary busy. "My dear," she said, "what are you doing?" Mary was rolling out pastry, with ice in a ginger-ale bottle. "I am going to make some tarts. There was a can of raspberries left and and well I'm just hungry for raspberry tarts, Mother." It was the Judge who told Becky that Dalton had not gone. "Mrs. Waterman is very ill, and they are all staying down."
Flippin, severely, "I wouldn't let you have your way " "I love to have my own way, Mrs. Flippin. And I am not your Mary" then fearing that she had hurt the kind heart, she caught Mrs. Flippin's hand in her own and kissed it, "but I wish I were. You're such a lovely mother." Mrs. Flippin smiled at her. "I'm as near like your mother as a hen is mother to a bluebird."
I grant you," said he, laying one hand on the other's arm, "I grant ye that maybe, maybe, mind you, you may know about mixin' flapjacks, and even about cookin' flapjacks. But wha' do you know about flippin' flapjacks?" He removed his hand from the other's arm. "Nawthin!" said he.
She thought it rather a pity. It was a comfortable thing to do. And it meant a great deal if you only believed in it. "Do you say your prayers, Mrs. Flippin?" she asked suddenly. Mrs. Flippin was getting used to Madge's queer questions.
Flippin," she said, "I wish I could live here always, and have you come every night and sit and hold my hand." Her eyes were smiling and Mrs. Flippin smiled back. "You'd get tired." "No," said Madge, "I don't believe anybody ever gets tired of goodness. Not real goodness. The kind that isn't hypocritical or priggish. And in these days it is so rare, that one just loves it.
"The neighborhood calls her Fiddle Flippin," the Judge reminded him. "What's in a name?" said Truxton, and swung his baby high in the air. "Do you love your daddy, Fiddle-dee-dee?" "'Ess," said Fiddle, having accepted him at once on the strength of sweet chocolate, and an adorable doll. "What are they saying?" whispered Aunt Claudia, still tense in the middle of the room.
"But I have something I should have told you months ago." "There isn't anything you can tell me that I don't know." "Mother " "Girls can't fool their mothers, Mary. Do you think that when Fiddle grows up, she is going to fool you?" The next morning Mr. Flippin was at the foot of the stairs when his daughter came down. "So you lied to me, Mary." She shook her head, "No."
"His man was a corking little chap, never turned a hair, as cool as a cucumber, with everybody else sizzling." They were ascending a hill, and the horse went slowly. Ahead of them was a buggy without a top. In the buggy were a man and a woman. The woman had an umbrella over her, and a child in her arms. "It's Mary Flippin and her father. See if you can't overtake them, Jefferson.
While the professor marched up and down flippin' his coat tails with his hands and sayin', "Who said Sapolio? Who said Sapolio?" But no one told and he couldn't find out. So on this day when George Heigold got a hundred in geometry, somethin' else happened. It was a warm day and you could hear bees outside, and the trees was beginnin' to show green.
Just beginning to walk and talk." "Stop a minute, Jefferson, while I speak to them." Mr. Flippin pulled up his fat horse. He was black-haired, ruddy, and wide of girth. "Well, well," he said, with a big laugh, "it is cer'n'y good to see you." Mary Flippin was slender and delicate and her eyes were blue. Her hair was thick and dark.
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