Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 13, 2025
Jims held that bed in special dread. It was the oldest fashioned thing in the old-fashioned, old-furnitured house. It was high and rigid, and hung with gloomy blue curtains. Anything might jump out of such a bed. Jims gave a gasp and ran madly across the room. He reached the window and flung himself upon the seat. With a sigh of relief he curled down in the corner.
He rushed blindly across the lawn again, through the little side gate he had never passed before and down the street home. Uncle Walter was just opening the door of his car. "Uncle Walter come come," sobbed Jims, clutching frantically at his hand. "Miss Avery's dead dead oh, come quick." "Who is dead?" "Miss Avery Miss Avery Garland. She's lying on the grass over there in her garden.
They blew soap-bubbles out on the lawn and let them float away over the garden and the orchard like fairy balloons. They had glorious afternoon teas under the beech tree. They made ice cream themselves. Jims even slid down the bannisters when he wanted to. And he could try out a slang word or two occasionally without anybody dying of horror. Miss Avery did not seem to mind it a bit.
At least three afternoons a week they contrived to be together. It was all too good to be true, Jims felt. Something would happen soon to spoil it. Just suppose Aunt Augusta grew tender-hearted and ceased to punish! Or suppose she suddenly discovered that he was growing too big to be shut up! Jims began to stint himself in eating lest he grew too fast.
Its bigness and dimness and silence filled his sensitive little soul with vague horror. Sometimes he became almost sick with fear in it. To do Aunt Augusta justice, she never suspected this. If she had she would not have decreed this particular punishment, because she knew Jims was delicate and must not be subjected to any great physical or mental strain.
At first, this time, Jims did not feel quite so frightened as usual because he was very angry. As he put it, he was very mad at Aunt Augusta. He hadn't meant to spill his pudding over the floor and the tablecloth and his clothes; and how such a little bit of pudding Aunt Augusta was mean with desserts could ever have spread itself over so much territory Jims could not understand.
Can I come up to Ingleside tonight and see you?" "Of courthe." Had he used "you" in the singular or plural sense? Presently she would wring Jims' neck oh, what was Ken saying? "See here, Rilla, can you arrange that there won't be more than a few dozen people round? Understand? I can't make my meaning clearer over this bally rural line. There are a dozen receivers down." Did she understand!
"I suppose not," said the lady with a sigh. "Jims, are you hungry?" "Yes, I am. You see, the pudding was spilled. But how did you know?" "Oh, boys always used to be hungry when I knew them long ago. I thought they hadn't changed. I shall tell Martha to bring out something to eat and we'll have it here under this tree. You sit here I'll sit there.
The young man worked tense and quick at the luminous eyes. He broke a long silence by asking, "What's your name?" "Paul Kegworthy." "Paul? That's odd." In the sphere of life to which the ragged urchin belonged Toms and Bills and Jims were as thick as blackberries, but Pauls were rare. "What's odd?" said Paul. "Your name. How did you get it? It's uncommon." "I suppose it is," said Paul.
"I like cats," explained Jims, "and I have nothing but a gobbler. This is such a Very Handsome Cat. What is his name, please?" "Black Prince. He loves me," said the lady. "He always comes to my bed in the morning and wakes me by patting my face with his paw. He doesn't mind my being ugly." She spoke with a bitterness Jims couldn't understand. "But you are not ugly," he said.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking