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Updated: July 24, 2025
You don't know a thing about it who in Christendom the woman was not a thing." "Johnny's mother," said Polly sorrowfully, the corners of her mouth drooping; "that's going to be on it, and Grandpapa is to have the letters cut, telling about the accident; and Mrs. Higby hopes that sometime somebody will come to inquire about it.
"Nothing," said Polly, opening her eyes; "that is, not much," and sitting up straight. "Are Grandpapa and Jasper really coming?" she asked. "Dear me, Polly," exclaimed Mrs. Cabot, before Mrs. Higby could answer, and putting shaking hands on Polly's shoulders, "I never was so frightened in my life! I thought your arm was worse and you so near well!
Higby sets it out so, and we were all so comfortable to-day, I'd get at it kinder early," said Mrs. Higby apologetically; "anything I can do, Miss Polly?" she asked, flying away from her patch, and dropping her scissors on the floor. "No," said Polly, turning back hastily. "Never mind, Mrs. Higby." "Now 'twas something you wanted me for," cried Mrs.
Farmer Higby, intensely gratified; "well, he's as nice a boy as ever lived, I'm sure, and I'm just as tickled as I can be that that fever was broke up so sudden, for you see, Phronsie, he's got the making of being a right smart man yet." "Grandpapa is going to have Pickering go home with us," said Phronsie, confidentially, and edging away from the farmer's wife to facilitate conversation.
My first lesson in animal psychology I got from old Nat Higby as he came riding by on horseback one winter day, his huge feet almost meeting under the horse, just as a hound was running a fox across our upper mountain lot.
Higby," begged Phronsie eagerly, and without waiting for the permission she felt quite sure of, Phronsie picked up the long brown towel and set to work. Upstairs Jasper and his father were going over again all the incidents of Mr.
Cabot, who insisted on being beside him, and old Mr. Loughead in front the others of the party merrily following in a large old vehicle of no particular pattern whatever and before anybody could hardly realize it, the train came rushing in, and there were hurried good-bys, and hand-shakes, and they were off Phronsie crying as she held to her, "I wish you were going too, I do, dear Mrs. Higby."
Don't look like you was goin' to serve it," remarked the constable. "He's skipped out." "That's all right, Higby," went on the chief. "I'll catch em both. Even if they have escaped in an airship with their booty, I'll nab 'em. I'll have a general alarm out all over the country in less than an hour. They can't stay up in the air forever." "A warrant for Tom my son," murmured Mr.
Promise me, Polly, that you won't do it." "But, Charlotte, I ought not to promise until I am quite sure that it wouldn't be my duty to do what Mrs. Cabot advises. Don't you see, Charlotte, that I ought not to promise?" But Charlotte was too far gone in anxiety to see anything, and she could only reiterate, "Do promise, Polly, do; there's Mr. Higby calling us; the carriage is at the door.
"She loves Pickering," she said thoughtfully, "and when he was so bad she cried almost all the time, Mrs. Higby." "Oh! she loves him well enough," answered Mrs. Higby, "but she fusses over him so, and wants her way all the same.
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