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Updated: May 18, 2025
I thought she appears to me honorably er undisturbed," ventured the seamstress, with one swift upward look of interest. "Yes, she appears, many of us appear, but can she be happy? That is what I wish to know. The creature she is being forced to marry is more like a mountain-lion than a man!" "Ma-a-a! Is he dangerous? Will he bite her?" questioned the other, hopefully.
The two finest stone lanterns there are given in the name of my master's dead young wife. Her ihai is in this house, and an altar, and they are well tended, I assure you! My master is a true believer, poor man, and what has his belief brought him? Ma-a-a! all this mummery and service and what has come of it?" "I perceive with regret that you are not of the Shingon sect," remarked the priest. "Me?
"Ma-a-a! And I have little wonder for that fact! Your father will sacrifice you without a tear, he cares but for pictures. And Mata is helpless, Mata cannot help her babe! Ar
Ford, pretending to be greatly frightened. "Open it, open it quick, please! I can't wait!" cried Molly. At the slightest touch now the lid fell off and there, lying on a mat of softest grass, was a tiny, new-born lamb. Ohs! and Ahs! and laughter greeted it, to which the small creature answered by another feeble "Ma-a-a!" then curled itself to sleep. "What a pretty present!
Well, she must be growing old and worthless. She had better fill her sleeve with pebbles and cast herself into the nearest stream. She hurried back, a tempestuous protest in every step. "Miss Umè, Umè-ko!" she called. "Ma-a-a! What has come to us both? The Danna San walks about as if he had been awake for hours. And not a cup of tea for him! The honorable fire does not exist.
It felt almost as if her face were being washed with a sticky cloth. Dot opened her sleepy blue eyes and looked right into the big brown eyes of Don, Buttercup's baby calf. "Oh! Oh!" cried the little girl. "Ma-a-a," replied Don as he frisked away. "You are a dear little thing," Dot called after him, "but I wish you wouldn't kiss me with your tongue all over my face."
On one occasion I saw an old crow flying over, calling in a decided, "stern parent" style, followed by a youngster not yet expert on the wing, who answered with his droll baby "ma-a-a" in a much higher key. She was conducting him over the pasture to the salt marsh, where much crow-baby food came from in those days, and he was doing his best to keep up with her stronger flight.
It felt almost as if her face were being washed with a sticky cloth. Dot opened her sleepy blue eyes and looked right into the big brown eyes of Don, Buttercup's baby calf. "Oh! Oh!" cried the little girl. "Ma-a-a," replied Don as he frisked away. "You are a dear little thing," Dot called after him, "but I wish you wouldn't kiss me with your tongue all over my face."
Feigning now, for her own purposes, a soothing air of ignorance, she glided into the room, lifted the tiny tea-pot, shook it from side to side, and then cocked her bright eyes upon her master. "The tea-pot. It is honorably empty. Shall I fill it?" "Yes, yes; replenish it at once. I need hot tea. Shameless, incredible; he has, indeed, the manners of a wild boar." "Ma-a-a!" exclaimed the old woman.
Many others alighted on the fence; the junco, with his pretty brown bantling and his charming little trilling song; the crow baby, with its funny ways and queer cry of "ma-a-a;" the redstart, who "Folds and unfolds his twinkling tail in sport;" the flicker mamma, with her "merry pitter-patter" and her baby as big as herself.
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