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"Exactly," said Coppy gravely. "But I don't fink I'll ever want to kiss big girls, nor no one, 'cept my muvver. And I MUST do vat, you know." There was a long pause, broken by Wee Willie Winkie. "Are you fond of vis big girl, Coppy?" "Awfully!" said Coppy. "Fonder van you are of Bell or ve Butcha or me?" "It's in a different way," said Coppy.
"It's the wagons, or the black-smiths, or anything but the truth. I know what's the matter, all right." "What do you mean by that?" asked Jim, sharply. "I mean that all your time's took up a-carryin' and a-fetchin' for that girl what calls you 'Muvver Jim." "What have yer got to say about her?" Jim eyed him with a threatening look.
Eleanor Gray the world is small, the life of it persistent; generations repeat themselves, and each is young but once. He put his hand under the child's chin and turned up the baby face. "Ah!" said he if that may stand for the sound that stood for the Bishop's reverie. "Ah! Whom were you named for, Eleanor Gray?" "For my own muvver."
I tried to comfort him and could not, but when a rather shame-faced young woman came along, as if returning from her work, he burst out on her and cried: "Oh, muvver, she's been a-beating of me awrful." "Never mind, Johnny," said the young woman, kneeling on the wet pavement to dry the child's eyes. "Don't cry, that's a good boy."
"We can't leave her here," added Mollie, and at the word "leave" the child broke into a fresh burst of tears. "I'se losted!" she sobbed. "I don't got no home! I tan't find muvver! Don't go 'way!" "Bless your heart, we won't," consoled Betty, still smoothing the tousled hair. "We'll take you home. Which way do you live?"
The small bunch in her arms raised his head and regarded her with pink, sick little eyes, his tongue darting this way and that in an aftermath of relish; then fell to licking her bare forearm with swift, dry strokes. "Muvver's ittsie bittsie Snookie! Him love him poor muvver! Him poor, poor muvver!"
I threw back a fold of the 'possum rug, and felt Jim's head he seemed cool enough. 'Where do you feel bad, sonny? No answer for a while; then he said suddenly, but in a voice as if he were talking in his sleep 'Put my boots on, please, daddy. I want to go home to muvver! I held his hand, and comforted him for a while; then he slept in a restless, feverish sort of way.
But muvver, if you are the tumpany, you can't go to sleep when you've gone away, can you?" A voice joined me in laughter, Maria Maxwell's, from inside the open window of the dining room.
To "lean over" the children was always expected of this mother; the direst punishment on the rather brief list was to omit this intimate evening ceremony. "M-mother," stammered the Master of Fox Hounds, "you will lean over us, won't you?" "Mother hasn't decided " "Oh, muvver!" wailed Josie; and a howl of grief and dismay rose from Winthrop, modified to a gurgle by the forbidden finger.
"Missy keep bufday one day after proper time, sah, cos her muvver die on proper bufday, and Massa and Missy too sorry to be jolly dat day, sah." "Does Mr. Vetch know that?" I asked, with no little anxiety, for 'twas Tuesday night, and if Vetch knew that Lucy came of age on Thursday the time was perilously short.
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