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Updated: June 9, 2025


In fact, Philemon, probably growing tired of the little effect produced by his two ornithological imitations, turned the key in the lock, and finding himself unable to open the door, said in a deep bass voice: "What, dearest puss, have you shut yourself in? Are you praying Saint Flambard for the return of Philly?"

There was nobody really more daring than Vi. The two Armatage girls tried to coax Rose away from the "train"; but Rose liked to play with her brothers and sisters, and she knew that Mother Bunker expected her to. So she excused herself to Philly and Alice. Unfortunately they took some offense at this. That evening after supper Rose found herself ignored by Phillis and Alice Armatage.

"We'll write that sign early in the morning and go down there and stick it up. Want to?" "Of course I do," said Rose, with a glad little jump in her bed. "I think you're just the smartest boy, Russ, to think of it. I won't say a word about it, not even to Philly and Alice."

"Life on a ranch must be great fun, I think." "Yes; in one way, but pretty rough and lonely too, sometimes. It will be nice to go out and see Clarence's, if we can get some lady to go with us, won't it?" "Well, just don't let it be Mrs. Watson, whoever else it is. She would spoil it all if she went." "Now, Philly, don't. We're supposed to be leaning on her for support."

"If you think," said Agatha, angrily, "that I could even imagine such a thing as that, it's just too awfully mean, that's all. But you've worried yourself sick and you're unreasonable. There, now, please don't cry, Philly," she added, going around and stroking her sister's hair. "You're too good for any man that ever lived, and that's a great misfortune.

Dazzled by her beauty, as well as impressed with her noble and lofty bearing, and curious to know how in the world Rose-Pompon had fallen in with such an acquaintance, Philemon said to her, in his amorous jargon: "Dearest puss! tell her Philly who is that fine lady?" "One of my school-fellows, you great satyr!" said Rose-Pompon, still playing with the rabbit.

Perhaps he was nearer right in other regards than I thought him." Half an hour later the door-bell rang, and Agatha answered the call. Then she put her head into the parlor where Phillida sat, back to the door, gazing into the street. "I say, Philly, what do you think? Mr.

"Oh, Cousin Helen! dear, dear Cousin Helen!" she cried. Then she tumbled down by the sofa somehow, the two pairs of arms and the two faces met, and for a moment or two not a word more was heard from anybody. "Isn't a nice 'prise?" shouted Philly, turning a somerset by way of relieving his feelings, while John and Dorry executed a sort of war-dance round the sofa.

Of her father's heresies he would not, he said, do more than remind her that the wiles of the devil against her soul might present them-selves through her natural affections; but in regard to her failure to wait upon the means of grace he spoke without mercy, for, he said, "faithful are the wounds of a friend." "Are you my friend?" Philly asked, lifting her gray eyes suddenly. Mr.

"What do you expect to see, Rose?" demanded her brother loftily. "I don't know. Philly says ha'nts are all in white." "I don't see anything very white around here," rejoined Russ. "But there are so many colored folks, perhaps some of the ha'nts might be black," suggested Rose. "Then we wouldn't see them very well in the shadows." "I don't believe " began Russ. The strange shriek was again heard.

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