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Updated: May 22, 2025
"You stop talking so, Dotty. She was going to sweep everything into the rag-bag now wasn't she? And this money would have gone in too, if it hadn't been for my sharp eyes now wouldn't it?" "But it isn't yours, Jennie Vance because it don't belong to you." "Now, Dotty " "You go right off, Jennie Vance, and carry it to my grandma this minute." The tone of command irritated Jennie.
And so I had to put by my work, and lug down my rag-bag. His steel-yards wuz broke, so he had to weigh 'em in the house. It wuz a tegus job, for he wuz one of the perticuler kind, and had to look 'em all over before he weighed 'em, and pick out every little piece of brown paper, or full cloth everything, he said, that wouldn't make up into the nicest kind of writin' paper.
Craig watched, seemed hugely amused. "You'll see, about noon to- morrow. You've got to put in the morning shopping for me. I haven't got You know what sort of a wardrobe mine is. Wardrobe? Hand satchel! Carpet-bag! Rag-bag! If I took off my shoes you'd see half the toes of one foot and all the heel of the other. And only my necktie holds this collar in place. Both buttonholes are gone.
She herself did not know that it was a wonderful little document in its neatly jotted down notes of the exact detail most important to his interests. There were figures, there were calculations of profits, there were records of the gist of his replies, there were things Hutchinson himself could not possibly have fished out of the jumbled rag-bag of his uncertain recollections.
Make your best of it. What about her clothes? She's but a rag-bag though it's no fault o' mine. Pray who's going to buy her gowns, her hats, her petticoats, her laces and frills. You?" "I? Bless me! no, woman. I know nothing about such things," rejoined Gay colouring slightly. "I will send a woman who understands the business." "It's all one to me.
"I'm afraid so, for aunt vows she will make a new will to-morrow, and leave every penny to the Charitable Rag-bag Society," sighed Mrs. Snow. "I didn't mean to do it, I truly didn't! I thought I'd just 'give her a hint, as you say. She looked all right, and laughed when I told her about being a bore, and I thought she liked it.
"They don't seem to have had no luck, any of them," was Leander's depressed conclusion. "Aphrodite, or Venus, as you choose to call her, took a prominent part in the Trojan war, the origin of which ten years' struggle may be traced to a certain golden apple." "What an old rag-bag it is!" thought Leander. "I'm only wasting money on him.
The Minister, on the other hand, carried a sort of aesthetic rag-bag of his own, which he regarded as amusement, and never called art.
Looking down into her bonny face from its place, high up on the walls of the Prado, was an old cracked saint, his human eyes aglow with a light that came straight from heaven. It was in the Doctor's own office that he told me this story. He has told me a dozen more, all pulled from the rag-bag of his experience, like strands of worsted from an old-fashioned reticule.
"Yes," said she, "you must have remonstrated very feelingly. Your tie's all crooked, Olaf dear, and your hair's all rumpled, and there's dust all over your coat. You would disgrace a rag-bag. Oh, I'm glad you reasoned that way! It wasn't dignified, but it was dear of you, Olaf. Pevensey's a beast." He caught his breath at this.
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