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Updated: May 8, 2025
To his delight he found a platter filled with just the daintiest little pink-frosted cakes you ever saw. "O-oo, thimble cakes!" he exclaimed. "You are just the fellows I want! I'll take you along to church with me." He cast one quick glance around, then grabbed a handful of the tiny cakes and crammed them into his trousers' pocket.
"I tell you what," he said, slowly. "You know when they took us to the Sportsman's Show last week at Mechanic's Hall? Don't you remember about that Eskimo igloo that they had built of ice in the middle of the skating pond? Let's build an igloo like that, and get into it and keep warm." "O-oo!" gasped Vi, "how can you do that?" "Where will you get any ice?" Laddie demanded.
In the silence of the neighborhood the a-a-a and o-oo, persistently prolonged, repeated again and again, with windows open, gave the factory the atmosphere of a boarding-school. And it was in reality a schoolgirl who was practising these exercises, an inexperienced, wavering little soul, full of unconfessed longings, with everything to learn and to find out in order to become a real woman.
In the silence of the neighborhood the a-a-a and o-oo, persistently prolonged, repeated again and again, with windows open, gave the factory the atmosphere of a boarding-school. And it was in reality a schoolgirl who was practising these exercises, an inexperienced, wavering little soul, full of unconfessed longings, with everything to learn and to find out in order to become a real woman.
In the silence of the neighborhood the a-a-a and o-oo, persistently prolonged, repeated again and again, with windows open, gave the factory the atmosphere of a boarding-school. And it was in reality a schoolgirl who was practising these exercises, an inexperienced, wavering little soul, full of unconfessed longings, with everything to learn and to find out in order to become a real woman.
Agitated tapping at the door: "The cotton-wool m'am." "Sticking- plaster, m'am." "'Ot bottle, m'am." "Go away!" roared Bob. "Go away! O-oo, my face!" He hopped in wrath and pain. "Send those damned women away!" Mrs. Chater rushed to the door. Passing, she for the first time caught full sight of her son's face now that the hot water had exposed its wreck. "Oh, your eyes! Your poor eyes!
And sometimes if it were not for mother's letters it would seem a great way from home." The girl did not know why it was so pleasant to know this, and why her heart went out in instant sympathy for him. "O-oo!" she said gently. "Tell me about your mother, please!"
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