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Miss Emelene huddled the object of controversy up in her chin, talking down into the warm gray fur. "Was 'em tryin' to 'buse muvver's ittsie bittsie kittsie? Muvver's ittsie bittsie kittsie!" They were in the front hall now, Mr. Evans tugging at the door. "I'll run around now and arrange to have your trunks called for at five.
My knock attracted a little chap of two-and-a-half or three years; his stout hands shoved the screen back, and I found myself ushered into his company. There evidently was no one else about, so I visited, and we talked on those things which are of importance in the world of three-year-olds. "Muvver's don to the wiver," he confided. "She tum back pwetty soon." "And Father?" I asked. "Where is he?"
Fay had few playmates, for among the Gentile children there were none near her age, and the Mormon children were forbidden to play with her. So she was a shy, wild, lonely child. "Muvver's sick," said Fay, leading Jane toward the door of the hut. Jane went in. There was only one room, rather dark and bare, but it was clean and neat. A woman lay upon a bed. "Mrs.
What a funny man you are you know such a few things. My muvver's up in heaven. She went when I was a baby, long, long ago. I reckon she must have flewed," she added, reflectively, raising clear eyes to the pale, heat-worn sky that gleamed through the branches. The Bishop's big hands went up to his face suddenly, and the strong fingers clasped tensely above his forehead.
"No more tandy! Make ittsie Snookie Ookie sick! Make muvver's ittsie bittsie bow-wow sick! No! No!" Each admonition she accompanied with a slight pat designed to intimidate further display of appetite.
My muvver's always kissing me if I don't stop her. If it isn't pwoper, how was you kissing Major Allardyce's big girl last morning, by ve canal?" Coppy's brow wrinkled. He and Miss Allardyce had with great craft managed to keep their engagement secret for a fortnight.
What should he say to these children? In his bewilderment for the moment he actually forgot the letter which he still held tightly in his hand. "Dat's muvver's safe," continued the little boy. "She keeps lots o' things in it. It's all hers but dat drawer. Dat's papa's and " "I think I hear some one on the stairs," broke in the little girl suddenly in great excitement. "Maybe that's Santa Claus."
"All our folks are just recovering from the scarlet fever," is the reply to my first application; "Muvver's down to ve darden on ve island, and we ain't dot no bread baked," says a barefooted youth at house No. 2; "Me ould ooman's across ter the naybur's, 'n' there ain't a boite av grub cooked in the shanty," answers the proprietor of No. 3, seated on the threshold, puffing vigorously at the traditional short clay; "We all to Nord Blatte been to veesit, und shust back ter home got mit notings gooked," winds up the gloomy programme at No. 4.
They drew up in a triangle beside the window overlooking the cast-iron deer. The cat sprang up, curling in the crotch of Miss Emelene's arm. "Nice ittie kittie, say how-do to big Penny-field-Evans. Say how-do to big man. Say how-do, muvver's ittie kittie." Miss Emelene extended the somewhat reluctant Maltese paw, five hook-shaped claws slightly in evidence. "Say how-do to Hanna, Penfield.
"Was muvver's ittsie Snookie Ookie such a hungry bow-wow?" He yapped shortly, pawing her. "Ask big bossie sitting over there carving his din-din if him got chocolate tandy in him pocket like always for Snookie Ookie. No, no, bad red meat no good for ittsie bittsie bow-wow. Go ask big bossie what him got this time in him pocket for Snookie.
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