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Stephens, when I had done washing my hands outside, I came past the door again, and there were those two children sitting on the stoop with their eyes full of flies, and all just the same as ever, except that each had a little paper cap made out of the New York Herald upon his head. But, say, Sadie, it's going on to ten o'clock, and to-morrow an early excursion."
Or perhaps it's Sadie I ought to thank?" "I wouldn't bother about it. Sadie's fond of meddling," Charnock answered with some embarrassment. "But will the snow stop the work?" "Not altogether. We can keep busy on the hill and I'm going up now. Will you come?" "Presently," said Charnock, smiling. "Food's a thing you don't seem to need when you're occupied, but I want my breakfast before I start."
Then sitting there beside her glowing stove Grandma fell to dreaming of Green Valley and the Green Valley folks of other days, Green Valley as it used to be in the springs of long ago. Of the days when Roger Allan was a young, strength-mad fellow and Richard Wentworth was his chum and her lover. And she remembered too how right Sadie Dundry was.
The whimsical heir of the house of Gilder surveyed his victim critically, then spoke with judicial solemnity. "About two ounces, Sadie." There came a look of deep hurt on Sadie's face at the flippant jest, which Dick himself was quick to note. He had not guessed she was thus acutely sensitive concerning her plumpness.
It does seem a shame folks drop in at mealtimes. Well, go let him in Sadie." The cook went out through the sitting room and down the hall. Mrs. Egg patted her black hair, sighed at her third chop and got up. The cook's voice mingled with a drawling man's tone. Mrs. Egg drank some milk and waited an announcement. The cook came back into the dining room and Mrs.
But the ladies could see nothing funny, the mammas, nor Aunt Cordelia. That mild mourning had been the result of anxious planning and consultation. Neither could Miss Carrie. She said they had failed her. She said it in her deepest tones and used gestures. Sadie wept, for the sight of Miss Carrie recalled afresh the tears she should have shed with Histrionic Talent.
And all her carefully confined curls, springing their pins, she fell forward a shivering mass. In that surcharged moment and brisky exuding a wintry out-of-doors, Mr. Herman Loeb entered and stood for a moment in the open doorway, in the act of removing his greatcoat. "Herman, my son! Oh, my son!" "What's wrong, ma? Sadie!" "It's come, Herman, like I always predicted to Etta it would.
What's a girl got her looks for if not to have a good time?" "Who's this you were invited out by?" asked Sadie Corn. "You must have noticed him," said Julia, dimpling. "He's as handsome as an actor. Name's Venner. He's in two-twenty-three." There came the look of steel into Sadie Corn's eyes. "Look here, Julia!
There was Fremont, named for the explorer-soldier; there was Orlando, named from his mother’s vague, idle musings over paper-backed literature at certain "unchancy" seasons; there was Richards, named from pure policy, for a local great man of whom Warren Rodney had anticipated a helping hand at the time; there was Eudora, whose nominal origin was uncertain, unless it bore affiliation to that of Orlando; there was Sadie, thus termed to avoid the painful distinctions of "old Sally" and "young Sally"; and, lastly, like a postscript, came Dan—with him, fancy, in the matter of names, seemed to have failed.
You know I don't go in much for what's called society journalism, especially in the country press, where it mostly takes the form of 'Miss Sadie Myers is visiting with Miss Mamie Peters, but I realize that a country paper nowadays must be a kind of open letter to the neighborhood, and I suppose you have no objection to my mentioning the engagement?" This made Mr.
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