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Updated: May 17, 2025
Oh, the hurly- burly of children, tumbling up as well as they could on legs crooked under them, and holding out great fans of floury doughy paws, all coming to be hugged in his arms in turn, so that before he had come to the end of the eight in presence, Bessie had had time to whisk off to the nursery, snatch Baby up from before Nurse's astonished eyes, rush down with her, and put her into his arms.
The harvester enters a cell backwards; she first brushes herself and drops her load of pollen; then, turning round, she disgorges the honey in her crop upon the floury mass. This done, the unwearied one leaves the burrow and flies away, back to the flowers. After many journeys, the stack of provisions in the cell is sufficient. This is the moment to bake the cake.
For then your mind raged over the saucepans and the fragrant, floury pasteboard, hungry and unfed. It couldn't bring anything about. It snatched at the minutes left over from Roddy and the house and Mamma and the piano. You knew what every day would be like. You would get up early to practise. When the cooking and the housework was done Roddy would want you. You would play tennis together with Mr.
The perspiring Swedish proprietress and a blond-haired daughter or two would be handling the warm loaves, the flat, floury pies, and the brown cookies as fast as hands could move; the cash register behind the counter rang and rang, the air was hot, the windows obscured with steam. Men were among the customers, but the Weber girls had no time to flirt now.
'Ah! cried Cora, turning round, and making a comic threatening gesture with her floury fingers; 'you ought not to have come till we were fixed. Go and sit in your chair by the fire. 'Dear Cora!
To be sure, she had her own private and special quarrels with "Massa James" when he disputed any of her sovereign orders in the kitchen, and would sometimes pursue him with uplifted rolling-pin and floury hands when he had snatched a gingernut or cooky without suitable deference or supplication, and would declare, roundly, that there "never was sich an aggravatin' young un."
Mary gave a starved cry, then dropped on her knees, clutched at the small, rough, floury hand and tried to kiss it. "A mother has a claim," she said, passionately. Miss Lydia, pulling her hand away, nodded. "Yes, a mother has." "Then let him come. Oh, let him come!" "Are you his mother?" Mary fell back, half sitting on the floor, half kneeling at Miss Lydia's feet. "What do you mean? You know "
It must lie in the workin'. How long do you work the dough, Parenthesis?" "It must lie in the workin'," repeated Parenthesis solemnly. "Why, I work it, an' work it " he continued, with exasperating slowness. "How long do you work it?" asked Polly impatiently. "Till my han's look purty clean like!" said Parenthesis, holding up his floury paws.
She drooped in his arms, hanging her head and looking down on her floury hands. "Say it, Betty dear, won't you?" Her lip quivered. "I don't want to be anybody's wife and, anyway I liked you better the other way." "Why, Betty? Tell me why." "Because lots of reasons. I must help mother and I'm only seventeen, and " "Most eighteen, I know, because "
It was all very pleasant and genuine; there was a sense of ease and peacefulness, quite different from the mechanical, slightly sullen manoeuvring of the Germans. The village baker and his assistant came hot and floury from the bakehouse, bearing between them a great basket of fresh bread. The cavalry were all dismounted by the bridge-head, eating and drinking like business men.
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