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Updated: June 22, 2025
Virginia could not keep back the words. Champers and Smith exchanged glances. "No, mom, you can't, Mrs. Aydelot. Let me show you why." He opened the drawer of his rickety desk and out of a mass of papers he fished up a copy of the Cincinnati Enquirer, six weeks old. "Look at this," and he thrust it into Virginia's hand. The head-lines were large, but the story was brief.
Thus the closing eloquence proceeded to its finish, and at last the service was over. Margaret looked about for Mom Wallis, but she had disappeared. She signed to Bud, and together they hastened out; but a quiet Sabbath peace reigned about the door of the school-house, and not a man from the camp was in sight; no, nor even the horses upon which they had come.
And that, mom, would shet any woman up in jail as you well know. And you know, Cleopatra," sez I, "jest how you went on and behaved, and your example is a-floatin' down the River of Time to-day, same as you sailed down the Sydnus in that barge of yourn.
It was a wonderful afternoon, and seemed to go on swift wings. Gardley went back to the school-house, where the horses had been left, and Bud went with him to give further particulars about that wink at the dinner-table. Mom Wallis went up to the rose-garlanded room and learned how to wash her hair, and received a roll of flowered scrim wherewith to make curtains for the bunk-house.
She stammered. "I've seen it in the movies, but I didn't know it was actually done in real life." "Yes, mom, it is. It's owin' to the horse yeh've got, an' yer cinch. Yeh'll see a heap better'n that this afternoon right on this here flat. An' would yeh be layin' over fer the dance tonight, mom?" The abrupt question was even more disconcerting than the compelling directness of his gaze.
"Ain't that just like a young one at the circus!" Mrs. Gallito laughed loudly. "What's the joke, mom?" drawled a lazy, sliding, soft voice on the other side of her. "A circus story, honey. Oh!" as the sudden formal silence recalled her to her duty. "I forget. You two ain't been introduced, have you? Pearl, make you acquainted with Mr. Hanson. He's in the show business."
She flew at them and called us all to help, and for a little while Mom Beck and Eliot were kept busy picking up strings and wrapping-paper and cotton and excelsior. When we were through, the bed and the chairs and mantel and two extra tables that had been brought in were piled with the most beautiful things I ever saw.
When she was in the Seminary, she couldn't do anything with her needle but embroidah. I used to have Mom Beck do her mending and darning when she did mine." "Thank fortune my mending is done!" exclaimed Allison, dropping her thimble into her work-bag, and throwing her coat across a chair. "It's almost time for the bell. I must take Juliet Lynn the papers I promised her."
I have seen worse thunder-storms Sundays, it does seem to me, than I ever see week days. And when old Mom Nater sets such a show a-goin' Sundays, you have got to tend it, whether you think it is wicked or not. "And as for the work of carryin' folks back and forth to it, meetin'-housen have to run by work hard work, too.
Mom Beck carried the ironing-board out of the hot kitchen, set the irons off the stove, and then tiptoed out to the side porch of the little cottage. "Is yo' head feelin' any bettah, honey?" she said to the pretty, girlish-looking woman lying in the hammock. "I promised to step up to the hotel this evenin' to see one of the chambah-maids.
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