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Updated: June 14, 2025
It was a battered tan khaki hat with the frayed cord hanging down over one side and a picture of a Kewpie drawn on the big button in front. There was no mistaking it. It was Katherine's hat. Migwan screamed. "They're drowned! They've gone out in boats and upset! That's why they're not here. Oh, what will we do?" "Take it easy," said Sahwah soothingly. "They haven't upset.
She did find her rag doll tucked back in the far corner of the closet and she began playing with her and forgot all about Kewpie and the new laundress and even about her own lonesomeness with Aunt Effie away.
It was quite hard for the stretcher-bearers, but they bore up manfully; and the Kewpie never lost his arch, heroic smile. Suddenly Schlorge, who was ahead, came stealing back to them. "Hist!" he cried, and all the Gunki hissed venomously. "I saw it light in an am-bush just to the left of that big rock.
And then Avrillia nearly took her breath away by saying, "Well, then, we'll go up and fit the dollies just for good measure. I know a shop where the loveliest doll clothes may be bought for a trifle." And, would you believe it, that was the first time that Sara had remembered the Baby doll and the Kewpie!
The Snimmy's wife said there were plenty of onions at home in the sugar-bowl, and Schlorge offered to send a Gunkus after them; but the Kewpie would not hear of it, so Schlorge mended him quite quickly and neatly without an anaesthetic at all. He declared himself able to walk, at once, but they persuaded him to let the Gunki carry him to the gate on the stretcher.
Irma used often to croon negro religious songs, the kind parlor entertainers imitate. I loved to listen to her. It was not my clothes she was ironing. Hattie, down the line, mostly dwelt on “Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam.” Hattie had straight, short hair that stood out all over her head, and a face like a negro kewpie.
"I'll be all right only take me along," maintained the Kewpie, valiantly. So they all started on again across the rough, uncharted country. Now, all this time they had not had so much as a glimpse of Sara's laugh.
And cheeks, like: A satin pincushion pink, Before rude pins have touched it. Her eyes were of the lagoon blue found in picture postcards of Venice and her hair was a curly yellow brush-heap. Sunning over with curls you know, sort of ringolets. In fact, Warble was not unlike one of those Kewpie things, only she was more dressed. Expelled! That's the way things were to come to Warble all her life.
"Oh, I remember now, dear," she added when she was half way up, "Aunt Effie took her clothes off to wash them and I expect the dolly is some place in her room. Get your biggest kewpie and come on, I can't wait too long." Now Kewpie, the biggest kewpie, was the doll with the broad smile who slept with Mary Jane every night.
"No, he isn't," laughed mother, who by that time was at the bottom of the stairs, "he must be right there, you had him in bed last night, you know." Mary Jane ran back and poked her hand under the pillow; looked under the bed; on the dresser and on the window seat. No Kewpie was to be found. "You'll find him in a minute," Mrs.
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