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Updated: June 25, 2025
I am not a man to waste my money, and breakfast with Little-sing won't cost me anything." "But under the circumstances you will waste a little money in order to oblige me?" said Maggie. "There now, I admire your cheek. So be it. You don't deserve anything from me, for a ruder 'ittle dirl than you were yesterday to poor Bo-peep could not have been found in the length and breadth of England."
Sam promptly opened his eyes and handed the weapon to Penrod. "All right," he said, with surprising and unusual mildness. "You try her, then." Inwardly discomfited to a disagreeable extent, Penrod attempted to talk his own misgivings out of countenance. "Poor 'ittle baby!" he said, swinging the pistol at his side with a fair pretense of careless ease. "Ain't even strong enough to pull a trigger!
Hopkins kissed the baby, and I got my hug, and another to take to my "ittle dirl," and Mrs. Hopkins held out both her hands to me. "Good-bye, dear Chum," said she, "my love to you and yours, now and always." Hopkins put his arm around his wife, kissed her forehead and said: "Sweetheart, I'm going to tell Chum a story."
She drew away from it, and said with maternal soothing, "Now, don't be a silly boy! Mustn't make Ittle Mama scold! Just sit back, dearie, and see what a swell night it is. If you're a good boy, maybe I'll kiss you when we say nighty-night. Now give me a cigarette." He was solicitous about lighting her cigarette and inquiring as to her comfort. Then he sat as far from her as possible.
"It isn't that, but it is the first thing I have ever kept from mother, and I would feel so much more comfortable if she knew." "Baby. An' so de ittle baby must tell its muvver ev'yting," he mimicked her, till she felt ashamed of her good impulse an impulse which if she had yielded to, it would have saved her from all the bitterness she was to know. "And so you will do as I ask you, darling?"
There was something about a 'ittle gal, and red boots, and a circus, and something that was lost; but whether it was the red boots that were lost, or the little girl, was uncertain. However, Nurse held up her hands at proper intervals and exclaimed, "Only fancy!"
The woman turned wildly and darted into the little bedroom. The man listened. He whistled in surprise almost comical. He had forgotten the baby. He could hear the mother talking, cooing. "Mommie's 'ittle pet. She wasn't goin' to leave her 'ittle man-no, she wasn't! There, there, don't 'e cry. Mommie ain't goin' away and leave him-wicked Mommie ain't-'ittle treasure!"
Mrs. Champ Perry bustled in to lend "Ben Hur," as a preventive of future infant immorality. The Widow Bogart appeared trailing pinkish exclamations, "And how is our lovely 'ittle muzzy today! My, ain't it just like they always say: being in a Family Way does make the girlie so lovely, just like a Madonna.
After donning it, he announced that he had an appetite and wanted to know when they were going to have supper. "Why, you had supper hours ago," scoffed Ned. "Want another one already?" "That wasn't supper, that was four o'clock tea. Indian fighters must have real food." "Stop teasing. We'll give the 'ittle baby his milk," returned Ned. That night, Kris Kringle remained on guard himself.
"Come, 'ittle snow-sister, kiss me!" cried Peony. "There! she has kissed you," added Violet, "and now her lips are very red. And she blushed a little, too!" "Oh, what a cold kiss!" cried Peony. Just then, there came a breeze of the pure west-wind, sweeping through the garden and rattling the parlor-windows.
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