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I did not like this book. 'I like Ivanhoe, by Scott, better than any. 'My favourite books are Tom Sawyer, Uncle Tom's Cabin, and Scudder's American History. I like Tom Sawyer because he was so jolly, Uncle Tom because he was so faithful, and Nathan Hale because he was so brave. These are unbought verdicts no wise man will despise. All this is popular enough.
Fancy her listening with well-bred astonishment to a critique on the doings of the unregenerate, or flirting that little jewelled fan of hers in Mrs. Scudder's square pew of a Sunday! Probably they will carry her to the weekly prayer-meeting, which of course she will contrive some fine French subtilty for admiring, and find revissant. I fancy I see it."
"Well, Miss Scudder, what do you think? Here's Colonel Burr come to call on the ladies!" Mrs. Scudder's first movement, in common with all middle-aged gentlewomen, was to put her hand to her head and reflect that she had not on her best cap; and Mary looked down at her dimpled hands, which were blue from the contact with mixed yarn she had just been spinning.
"She says she can't never be sure how hers is a-comin' out. Do what she can, it will be either too much or too little; but Miss Scudder's is always jest so. 'Law, says I, 'Cerinthy Ann, it's faculty, that's it; them that has it has it, and them that hasn't why, they've got to work hard, and not do half so well, neither." Mrs. Katy took all these praises as matter of course.
Swiggs finds herself, on the morning following the excellent little gathering at Sister Scudder's, restored to the happiest of tempers. The flattery administered by Brother Spyke, and so charmingly sprinkled with his pious designs on the heathen world, has had the desired effect. This sort of drug has, indeed, a wonderful efficacy in setting disordered constitutions to rights.
Scudder's table last night. I thought I should like to go on with it a little." "With all my heart, Doctor," said Simeon, not a little flattered. "Turn right in. Mrs. Brown will be about her house-business, and we will have the keeping-room all to ourselves. Come right in." The "keeping-room" of Mr.
One of these was a plump young man who wore a coloured scarf round his waist and babbled of golf handicaps ... I saw him again in the villa dining-room, wearing a dinner-jacket, and lisping a little.... I sat opposite him at bridge, I beheld him collared by two of Macgillivray's men, when his comrade had rushed for the thirty-nine steps that led to the sea ... I saw, too, the sitting-room of my old flat in Portland Place and heard little Scudder's quick, anxious voice talking about the three men he feared most on earth, one of whom lisped in his speech.
Describe the two men, and say you suspect them of having had something to do with the London murder. You can invent reasons. The two will come back, never fear. Not tonight, for they'll follow me forty miles along the road, but first thing tomorrow morning. Tell the police to be here bright and early. He set off like a docile child, while I worked at Scudder's notes.
"I have pleasant recollections connected with this kind of establishment," he said, as, after looking carefully at the harness, he passed the reins into Mrs. Scudder's hands. "It reminds me of school-days and old times. I hope your horse is quite safe, Madam." "Oh, yes," said Mrs. Scudder, "I perfectly understand him."
Scudder's voice was heard, calling Mary below. "Go down now, darling, and tell mamma; make a good little talk to her, ma reine! Ah, you are queen here! all do as you say, even the good priest there; you have a little hand, but it leads all; so go, petite." Mrs. Scudder was somewhat flurried and discomposed at the proposition; there were the pros and the cons in her nature, such as we all have.
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