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Updated: May 22, 2025
He basked in the blaze and grew pink and gay, and even sought to initiate a game of peek-a-boo from behind his white mittens with one of the ruffians; and although a bit dashed when the surly, absorbed eyes stared unresponsively at him, he plucked up spirit to ask if they were going to have supper, and to say that he wanted some, and that he was a very good boy.
With each reiteration of "Peek-a-boo" the crowd hallooed with delight, and one small boy, in the exuberance of his joy, tied himself into a sort of knot and rolled on the pavement.
So, with a spirit of self-denial of which we can scarcely conceive Richard did wait, and the shade was drawn closely down as little Nina, grown more bold climbed up beside him, and poised upon one foot, her fat arm resting on his neck, played "peek-a-boo" beneath the shade, screaming at every "peek," "I seen your eyes, I did."
And Baby Bessie was in the roomy carriage, sitting on Jenny's lap, and playing peek-a-boo with Robin, while Neil stood on the opposite seat engaged in a hot altercation with another boy about his own age, who, dressed in deep black, which gave him a peculiar look, was seated at a little distance in a most elegant carriage, with servants in livery, and who, when asked by some one standing near what his name was, had answered: "I am Lord Rossiter Hardy, and I am waiting for my mother, who is coming from New York, and who is going to bring me a bicycle."
I did not object, for I had a very pleasant game of peek-a-boo with the little girl, until we came to a big snow-drift, where the poor beast was stuck fast and began to lie down. Then it was not so nice! This was the convenient and primitive way in which some mothers packed their children for winter journeys.
Bring about any tension of expectation in a child have him wait for your head to appear around the corner as you play peek-a-boo, or delay opening the box of candy, or pretend you are one thing or another and the excitement of the child is manifested in what is known as eagerness.
Around the door of a Sixth Ave. bird store near Twenty-third St. was gathered the other day a crowd so large that it was a work of several minutes to gain entrance to the interior. From within there proceeded a hoarse voice dashed with a suspicion of whisky, which bellowed in Irish-American brogue the enlivening strains of "Peek-a-boo."
The old farmhouse had also secretly become a rendezvous for the mysterious Nicolas Lavilette and his rebel comrades. This was known to Mr. Ferrol. One evening he stopped Nic as he was leaving the house, and said: "See, Nic, my boy, what's up? I know a thing or so what's the use of playing peek-a-boo?" "What do you know, Ferrol?" "What's between you and Vanne Castine, for instance.
She brought a sketch-book in her satchel that is almost full of pictures she drew on the train. There is one that is so funny. It is the head of an old man, gone to sleep with his mouth open. She wrote under that one, "As others see us." Then she drew two cunning babies playing peek-a-boo in the aisle. She called that "Innocence abroad."
She began playing peek-a-boo with a staid and dignified old gentleman in the seat behind her. He at first looked at her over his spectacles, then lowered his paper a little, then a little more, and a little more. Finally, he dropped it altogether, and, apparently forgetting himself and his surroundings, became oblivious to everything in the fascinating pleasure he was having with the little girl.
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