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I never saw such ignorant children; they did not know how to make dirt pies, nor could they jump across the ditch, or get up by the trees to the top of the garden wall. Harriett and I had such a beautiful race round that garden, and they looked on so terrified." "They could take the shine out of you at lessons, however," said Mr.
It would soon be tea-time. "Wie grun der Wald." She remembered one wood the only one she could remember there were no woods at Barnes or at the seaside only that wood, at the very beginning, someone carrying Harriett and green green, the brightest she had ever seen, and anemones everywhere, she could see them distinctly at this moment she wanted to put her face down into the green among the anemones.
She did them in her mind. She heard the sound of her boot soles tapping the shining pavement as she hurried along... she would write a short note to her mother "a girl about my own age with very wealthy parents who wants a companion" and enclose a note for Eve or Harriett... Eve, "Imagine me in Pomerania, my dear"... and tell her about the coffee parties and the skating and the sleighing and Minna's German Christmasses....
Three stories in particular, however, may be mentioned, La Maison Tellier, 1881; Les Soeurs Rondoli, 1884, and Miss Harriett, 1885, because the collections which originally bore these names were pre-eminently successful in drawing the attention of the critics to the author's work.
She sat, pen in hand, and note-paper in front of her, feeling that she loved the atmosphere of these Saturday afternoons. This was her second. She had been in the school a fortnight the first Saturday she had spent writing to her mother a long letter for everyone to read, full of first impressions and enclosing a slangy almost affectionate little note for Harriett.
"We hope to be able to do so," said Elsie. "Then I will see you again I must see you again. Don't call your sister yet don't." Here Brandon was interrupted by the entrance of Miss Harriett, whose curiosity as to where Emily had taken her friend had led her to the nursery, a place she seldom visited. "Why, Emily, what a thing to bring Mr. Brandon into the nursery! You are a dreadful girl!
There had been that fortnight in the old room at home with Harriett... chicken-pox and new books coming and games, and Sarah reading the Song of Hiawatha and their being allowed to choose their pudding. She could not remember feeling ill. Had she ever felt ill?... Colds and bilious attacks.... She remembered with triumph a group of days of pain two years ago.
You cannot imagine what doggerel I make to please the children." "It is not doggerel; it is beautiful," said little Harriett; "it is the best song of all, and the newest the one that Alice has made about the fire, when we were such tiny babies; and how poor mamma was so weak and ill, and papa was away, and the flames were all around; and Peggy and Jim you recollect Jim, black Jim, Mr.
Grant, when a young lady of such strict principles proposed so singular an expedition. Harriett was not at all quick at reading countenances, and was particularly dull in the interpretation of Elsie's; but as some idea of the kind had dimly occurred to herself, she gave it voice and explained her views on the subject, in Elsie's hearing, to Mrs. Phillips.
When the week was over, he appeared to be in no hurry to go away, but wrote to Phillips instead; and hung about the house, went errands for her or her sister-in-law, took Harriett out for walks and drives, brought all his Melbourne acquaintances to call on her, and to inquire for Mrs. Phillips and the baby, and was himself engaged for several hours of every day in conversation with Harriett.
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