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Updated: June 17, 2025
The tables were trimmed with flowers and frilled paper and there were cakes and Jello. The children played games together at the end of the party. The big girls, when rain kept them from working, learned to cook and sew and take care of babies; and even the little girls learned a heap and made pretties they could keep, besides.
The finest girl this side the pearly gates an' the pretties'. What kind of a man have you growned to be with the women, Steve?" "No ladies' man, if that's what's worrying you, old pardner. I don't know a dozen girls in the world. I just asked to know about these people because they're right next-door to us and because they're newcomers since my time."
The attentive reader of American fiction must have already noted two memorable stories by Francis Buzzell published in previous years, "Addie Erb and Her Girl Lottie" and "Ma's Pretties." These two stories won for Mr. Buzzell an important position as an American folk-writer, and this position is amply sustained by the two fine stories which he has published during the past year.
Mercedes lifted the lid of the chest and gazed fondly at her burial pretties. "So I have made my bed. So I shall lie in it. Some old philosopher said we know we must die; we do not believe it. But the old do believe. I believe. "My dear, remember the salt vats, and do not be angry with me because my commissions have been heavy.
But of course, as a bride, you will have oceans of lovely things. I adore trousseaux. Perhaps you will show me some of your pretties?" "Oh, with pleasure." Desire's assent was instant and warm. "I shall love to let you see my things." It was risky but effective. Mary's desire to see the trousseau evaporated on the instant. No girl would be so eager to show things which were not worth showing.
Among them were some school boys, and one of them, a red-headed lad, was telling his brother all about it. "Now, Ozzie B., this is a monkey the furst you've ever seed. He looks jes' like I told you sorter like a man an' sorter like a nigger an' sorter like a groun' hog." "The pretties' thing I ever seed," said Ozzie B., walking around and staring delightedly. The crowd grew larger.
She had now reached an age when she was beginning to do "pretties" with her lips as she talked almost at the age when I had first been enraptured by her mother, with the identical two braids, also the tassels dangling from her boot tops. This latter was unexciting as a coincidence, however. I myself had deliberately produced it. Miss Lansdale turned from talk with the child to greet me.
And now, thanks to Hugo Jocelyn's forethought in giving her money for her bridal "pretties," no financial difficulty stood in the way of her departure. She must go but where? To begin with, she had no name. She would have to invent one for herself "Yes!" she murmured "I must invent a name and make it famous!"
She was without money, and, except for her resolve not to offend Billy in that way again, she would have borrowed ferry fare from Maggie Donahue and journeyed to San Francisco to sell some of her personal pretties. As it was, with bread and potatoes and salted sardines in the house, she went out at the afternoon low tide and dug clams for a chowder.
"That's right; don't trouble yourself about the breakfast we are all ears." "And all jaws! I see through you, my pretties! while I am speaking, your teeth will be in motion, and the turkey would be finished before my story. Be patient; I will reserve it for the dessert."
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