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Updated: June 5, 2025
"And I don't believe I like little boys. Jim and Benny, Frank and all of you are nicer. Perhaps it is the bigness." They all laughed at that. She sat in her father's lap afterward and went on with her quaint story, until her mother came and routed her out and said, "I do believe, 'Milyer, you'd keep that child up all night." Afterward Mr.
Father Underhill laughed and squeezed the little girl with a fondness she understood very well. Just then a voice called rather sharply: "'Milyer! 'Milyer!" and he sat the little girl down on the stool as carefully as if she had been china. He put another kiss in the little dent, and she gave him a tender smile. His whole name was Vermilye Fowler Underhill. Everybody called him Familiar, but Mrs.
Then they went after it and had their fun over and over again. Stephen had given the half-dollar to Jim with strict injunctions not to attempt to pass it or he'd get a "hiding," which no one ever did in the Underhill family. Mrs. Underhill declared "'Milyer was as easy as an old shoe, and she didn't see what had kept the children from going to ruin."
Underhill, who sat by the window knitting in the twilight, said: "'Milyer, that child must go to bed." She felt she had to issue this mandate two of three times, so she began early. They hugged each other and laughed a little. Then he said: "All the chickens right?" "Yes, I counted them. They're so cunning and lovely."
Underhill went away his wife said: "'Milyer, hadn't you better look after those old people up at Harlem. I suppose they had some garden truck, but there's flour and meat and little things that take off the money when you haven't much. And fuel. I'll try to go up some day with you and see what they need to keep them comfortable in cold weather."
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