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Updated: June 19, 2025


Oh, yes, indeed, kittens are all very well, but when they turn into old cats they're not so nice." "Oh, but Aunt Lettie, you don't understand," explained Jimmie, smiling the least bit. "You see these are only plant pussies. They can't ever become real cats you know." "They grow, don't they?" asked the old lady goat, shaking her horns again, "Don't they grow?" "Yes," admitted Lulu.

It flashed into my mind instantly that it was Lettie who had passed me down on that ledge. "I suppose I'll find her under my plate some morning when I go to breakfast," I said to myself. "She is a trailer of the Plains. Why should she be forever haunting my way, though?" Fate was against me that night. Judson was called from the party to open the store.

It was hate that made Jean Pahusca veil his countenance for me a moment before. Something of which hate can never know made me look down at her calmly. O'mie's hand was on my shoulder and his eyes were on us both. There was a quaint approval in his glance toward me. He knew the self-control I needed then. "Phil saved you, Marjie," Mary Gentry exclaimed. "No, he saved Jean," put in Lettie.

And there was Uncle Butter, the goat gentleman, who pasted wallpaper, and Aunt Lettie, the old lady goat, and—— But there, I will let you read the book yourself and find out all that happened to Nannie and Billie Wagtail. And until you do read that, I will just say good-bye, for a little while. The Broncho Rider Boys Series By FRANK FOWLER

But never mind. Marjie's not going to have my hate alone. You'll feel like I do yet, when her mother forces her away from you. Marjie's just a putty ball in her mother's hands, and her mother is crazy about Amos Judson. Oh, I've said too much," she exclaimed. "You have, Lettie; but stop saying any more." I spoke sternly. "Good-night."

"Cannot give me my sister's letter?" "It was to me that it was intrusted." "And you are afraid to trust me with it?" "I am afraid to break the trust reposed in myself." Again the black roll of silent thunder gloomed on his brow; as once his sister's eyes had been, his now were coruscant. "Do you refuse to give it to me?" he demanded. "I do," I said, "now, and until Miss Lettie says, 'Give."

"Well," he said as supper came to an end, "I'm sorry, but I'm forced to leave you gentlemen for an hour, at any rate can't be helped. Lettie, you must try to amuse 'em until I come back. Sing Mr. Brereton some of your new songs. Bent you know where the whisky and the cigars are help yourselves make yourselves at home." "You won't be more than an hour, father?" asked Lettie.

It must be time to serve the refreshments. I'll go ask Mrs. Wibblewobble." "I don't want refreshments," objected Billie, in a whisper to Sister Sallie. "I'm hungry, and I want something to eat!" "Hush!" cried his little sister again. "Refreshments are good things to eat!" "Oh," said Billie, and just then in came Mamma Wibblewobble and Aunt Lettie and Mrs. Bushytail and Mrs.

And what do you think? Just as they were buying their tickets if they didn’t meet Uncle Wiggily Longears! And he had Sammie and Susie, the rabbits, with him, and there was Aunt Lettie, the old lady goat, with the three Wibblewobble children, and many other little friends of Bully and Bawly. Well, that was a fine circus!

Now, in case I should see a sky-blue-pink-green rose in blossom to-morrow I'll tell you a story about Lulu, and how Aunt Lettie did her a great favor. Lulu Wibblewobble was walking in the deep, dark woods, and, what is more, she was all alone. Yes, and she wasn't afraid.

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