Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 28, 2025
"I shan't let it go in my throat. I'll bite my teeth togedder tight." "Alice," said her grandmother, "is that the proper way to speak to me?" The child's face cleared in a moment. "I wasn't a-speakin' to you, grandma," said she, sweetly; "I was a talkin' to the dust-pan." "O, Dotty Parlin!" cried Prudy, much distressed. "Nobody ever talked to the dust-pan, in all the days of their lives!
"I should be very sorry myself to have Prudy learn to read," replied she; "but she won't keep still long enough: you needn't be a bit afraid." "Look here, Prudy," exclaimed Mr. Parlin, "can you spell any words?" "Poh! yes, sir, I guess I can," replied Prudy, her eyes looking very bright, "I can spell 'most all there is to spell." "O, ho," laughed Mr. Parlin. "Let's hear you spell your own name.
"She s'poses writing talks to people; she thinks that's the way they read it." Grandmamma Parlin thought the man was probably an impostor. She went herself and talked with him; but, when she came back, instead of searching the closets for old garments, as Dotty had expected, she seated herself at her sewing, and did not offer to bestow a single copper on the beggar.
Prudy seemed to grow worse. The doctor was hopeful, very hopeful; but Mrs. Parlin was not. Prudy's dimpled hands had grown so thin, that you could trace the winding path of every blue vein quite distinctly. Her eyes were large and mournful, and seemed to be always asking for pity. She grew quiet and patient "painfully patient," her father said. Indeed, Mr.
Why, mother, as true as I live, she shut up her eyes and put out her tongue right there in school, and of course we girls couldn't help laughing!" "Well, perhaps she'd better sit by herself," replied Mrs. Parlin, smiling. "I will speak to the teacher about her carrying her knitting-work that may keep her out of mischief."
When Mrs. Parlin had finished her doughnuts, she said, "Pussy, you can't keep still two minutes. Now, if you want to sew this patchwork for grandma's quilt, I'll tell you what I shall do. There's an empty hogshead in the back kitchen, and I'll lift you into that, and you can't climb out. I'll lift you out when your stint is done."
Horace, who had gone on in advance, now came running back, swinging his boots in the air. "A trail!" cried he. "I've found a trail! Who planted these boots in the road, if it wasn't Fly Clifford?" "Perhaps she has gone to aunt Martha's," said Mrs. Parlin, "or tried to. Strange we did not think of that!" But aunt Martha had not seen her, nor had any one else.
Susy was not willing; indeed, she was very much frightened, and begged her mother to excuse her in some way to Mrs. Lovejoy, or, if that would not do, to go herself and explain the matter for her. But, as it was Susy's own affair, Mrs. Parlin wished to have as little to do with it as possible. Besides, she considered it a good opportunity to teach Susy a lesson in moral courage.
At the very first of our story, Susy was more than six years old, and Prudy was between three and four. Susy could sew quite well for a girl of her age, and had a stint every day. Prudy always thought it very fine to do just as Susy did, so she teased her mother to let her have some patchwork, too, and Mrs. Parlin gave her a few calico pieces, just to keep her little fingers out of mischief.
Parlin had said against it, his little daughter was called by various pet names, such as Midge, and Ladybird, and Forget-me-not. Very few were the people who seemed to remember that her name was Alice. She had a pair of busy dimples, which were a constant delight to her sisters. "They twinkle, twinkle like little stars, only they don't shine," cried Prudy.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking