Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 9, 2025
"I haven't lote my book," said Max, and looked ready to cry. "Don't be so mean, Muffie; sit down and wait," said Pauline. "Come on Max, darling, Paul will write yours the neatest of all. Now then." Max thrust his hands into his ridiculous pockets and stood with his legs well apart. He always told the same class of story though the variations were several.
It is possible Miss Bibby did not even finish the sentence her eyes looked absent-minded enough for such a lapse. Muffie went gleefully back to Robinson Island, the art-green serge trailing behind her. "We can have it, we can have it!" she announced gleefully, "only we're to be careful not to come on, fasten it on to the sticks, Paul."
And the noble lord wept bitterly and resolved never to have another step-mother, and he built a monyment with a white angel to her memory'." Lynn was quite moved by the story, and gulped down a sob which made Paul most gracious and grateful to her. But Muffie sniffed. "Well, she was a silly," she said.
"Well, may I?" "Certainly not. You will sit quite still as a gentleman should when ladies are still eating." Max cast a lowering glance at the ladies. "Well, make her hurry," he said; "look at her taking anover lot of leam." He glared at Muffie. "I shall take six lots of cream, if I choose," said Muffie. "I've got to put something on to take away the taste of your horrid dirty bib."
"Go on with your breakfast, Lynn," said Miss Bibby with as much calmness as she could muster, "sit down immediately, Muffie " for Muffie, excited by the unusual happening, had flown to the window to see where the rebel was heading for, "Max has forgotten himself, I am afraid." This was ever Miss Bibby's phrase ever her gentle optimism.
"Thank goodness they're done," she said. "Give me that piece of paper to wrap them in, Muffie, and you go and get some string, Lynn, while I write to him." For the final destination of the tales had long since been settled.
Max held still till the square of huckaback portraying the economic existence of Jack Sprat and his wife was well beneath his chin, and the tapes gathered once more up into Anna's hands. Then he gave a movement like a plunging horse, seized the offending article and flung it with all his force across the table where it fell and floated upon the milk Muffie had poured over her porridge.
Well, if I'd been Muffie I'd just have said, 'All right, do. Do you think they would have done so, and got her clothes all nasty and greasy? Not they, they think far too much of clothes. But even if they had well, it might have been a bit sticky, but it would be better than taking stuff like that down your mouth."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking