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Updated: October 16, 2025
They went up stairs, and stood, with their arms around each other, gazing at their once happy home. "How many times we have walked in that little grove, hand in hand with Mamita and Papasito! and now they are both gone," sighed Rosa. "Ah, yes," said Flora; "and now we are afraid to go there for a minute. How strangely everything has changed!
Delano smiled at these small scintillations of wit, which in the talk of lovers sparkle to them like diamond-dust in the sunshine. "Has he ever told you that he loved you as well as your name?" asked she. "He never said so, Mamita; but I think he does," rejoined Flora. "What reason have you to think so?" inquired her friend.
Florimond seems just like a piece of my old home, because he loved papa so much. Mamita Lila, didn't you say papa was a poor clerk when you and he first began to love one another?" "Yes, my child," she replied; and she kissed the bright, innocent face that came bending over her, looking so frankly into hers. When she had gone out of the room, Mrs.
They were covered with sketches of leaves and flowers, and embroidery-patterns, and other devices with which she had amused herself in those days. Among them she was delighted to find the head and shoulders of Thistle, with a garland round his neck. In Rosa's sleeping-room, an old music-book, hung with cobwebs, leaned against the wall. "O Mamita Lila, I am glad to find this!" exclaimed Flora.
All at once, a pretty little curly head appeared at one of these leafy lunettes, and an infantile voice called out, "You're a Bob-o-lith-o-nitht!" "Do come here, Mamita Lila, and see this little darling," said Flora, laughing. For a moment she was invisible. Then the cherub face came peeping out again; and this time the little mouth was laughing, when it repeated, "You're a Bob-o-lith-o-nitht."
"And he must have told her what flowers to put on the baskets," said Floracita. "You know Mamita often called me Pensée vivace. O, there never was such a Papasito!" Notwithstanding the sadness that invested tokens coming as it were from the dead, they inspired a consoling consciousness of his presence; and their work seemed pleasanter all the day for having their little baskets by them.
But the lecture was too grave for her mercurial spirit; and she soon sprang up, exclaiming: "O Mamita Lila, all those people were dead and buried so long ago! I don't believe the princess that Aeneas was fighting about was half as handsome as that dancing Contadina from Frascati, with a scarlet bodice and a floating veil fastened among her black braids with a silver arrow.
I will show you a picture I have made of Papasito and Mamita as guardian angels, placing a crown of violets and lilies of the valley on the head of my new Mamita. When I had to run away, she brought me to live with her in Boston; and there I met with an old acquaintance. Do you remember Florimond Blumenthal?" "The good German boy that Papasito took such an interest in?" inquired Rosa.
"His first Christmas." The child was finishing. "And God bless Aura, and Jack, and " "And Grandfather Reoh," his mother prompted softly. "And Grandfather Reoh and mamita, and " The boy ended with a rush "and me too. Amen. Now where do I hang the stocking, mother?" In a moment the little stocking dangled from a mantel over the fireplace.
This morning, when she saw a company of soldiers marching by, and heard the boys hurrahing, she said to me so piteously, 'O Flora, these are wild times. Poor Mamita! she's like a dove in a tornado." "You seemed to be strong as an eagle while you were singing," responded her husband. "I felt like a drenched humming-bird when Mr.
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