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Updated: May 26, 2025
Libbie eyed her scornfully and continued to parade up and down in her draperies. "Betty would look pretty in a veil," said Louise suddenly. "Come on, girls, let's stage a wedding. Libbie won't sleep all night if she doesn't have some romantic outlet. I'll be the father." She seized a pillow and stuffed it in the front of her dressing gown so that it made a very respectable corpulency.
Buckwheat cakes, each as big as the plate itself with "oodles of butter and real maple syrup," to quote Bob. "We don't even get as good as this at Salsette," said Tommy Tucker grimly. "Oh, cracky!" "I want to know!" gibed his twin, borrowing a phrase he had heard New England Libbie use on one occasion. "If Major Pater could see us now!" Libbie and Timothy forgot to quote poetry.
Libbie had the advantage of being the only one of the girls who had been to New York. "This has lots more ground around it," she pronounced critically. "Course in a city like New York, they need the land for other buildings. But you just ought to see the Pennsylvania Station there!" "All right, take your word for it," said Bobby. "Where do we go to send a telegram, Momsie?" Mrs. Littell smiled.
Hall has no one." Anne could only repeat, "Well, I never!" and hurry off to tell the news at home. But Libbie was right. Margaret Hall is a different woman to the scold of the neighbourhood she once was; touched and softened by the two purifying angels, Sorrow and Love. And it is beautiful to see her affection, her reverence, for Libbie Marsh.
Libbie waited till they were safely in the attic before she followed up her suggestion. "I read the loveliest story last summer," she said dreamily. "It was about a bride " A shout of laughter from the listening girls interrupted her. "I knew there would be a bride in it somewhere," rippled Bobby. "Now, Libbie, once and for all, this is hide-and-go-seek, not a mock wedding."
But my stronghold is farm literature; I devour it at night, while Libbie reads society bits in the village weekly, or cons the city daily. Poor Lib! It goes right hard with her to draggle her skirts in the dewy strawberry beds; but she feels consoled when I fetch up the till! What misers we be, hoarding our strong box!" So these heroic girls are going on, the respected of all observers.
Say! do you hear that silly girl?" "Who? Libbie?" Betty began to giggle. "She is going to make a hero of you, Bob, whether you want to be or not. And you are " "Now, don't you begin," growled Bob. "I never saw such a modest fellow," laughed Betty, giving his free hand a little squeeze. "Huh! Libbie will want to put a laurel wreath on my brow if I climb up there. See!
And often in the night Libbie could not help rising gently from bed, to see if the little arm was waving up and down, as was his accustomed habit when sleepless from pain. Libbie had a good deal of sewing to do at home that winter, and whenever it was not so cold as to benumb her fingers, she took it upstairs, in order to watch the little lad in her few odd moments of pause.
No we can't seem to want to think about Thanksgiving or Christmas or like that." They all turned their grave lined faces toward us. "We want to let the holidays just slip by without noticin'," Miss Viny told us. "Seems like it hurts less that way." Libbie Liberty smiled wanly. "Don't you know," she said, "when you hold your hand still in hot water, you don't feel how hot the water really is?
He could meet all comers in a political argument, could hold his own against the banter of the village gossips; he could even defy Willie and his counsel; but to address Sarah Libbie on a matter so tender and of such vital import was an ordeal so overwhelming that it caused his tongue to cleave to the roof of his mouth, and his pulse almost to cease to beat. Unlucky Jack!
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