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Updated: June 22, 2025
"You shall have your shortcake if there is a berry within five miles." The woman listened to the fall of the light step on the stairs and the fragment of a song that came from the girl's lips until the last note of the music died away; then she called Melvina. "Melviny!" "Yes, marm." "I want you should find Tony and tell him to harness up. There's somethin' I need done in the village."
She held up her silk skirts high, as usual, and carried a nice little parcel of papers tied with ribbon. She also did not notice Johnny, who, however, out of sweet respect for his mother's nice silk dress, stopped kicking up dust. Mrs. Trumbull on the village street was really at home preparing a shortcake for supper.
The only wonder is that those revisers did not insert strawberry shortcake and ice cream in place of daily bread. Some of these ministers who are writing speeches for the Lord think they are smart. They have fooled with Christ's sermon on the Mount until He couldn't tell it if He was to meet it in the Chicago Times. This thing has gone on long enough, and we want a stop put to it.
Tisbett, heartily; "these are the little Pepperses, and they live over to Badgertown, Marm." He said this with an air much as he might have announced, "This is the Lord Mayor of London," if he had been called upon to introduce that functionary. "Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Green, much impressed, "I'll do my best. Well now, I've got boiled dinner an' a raspb'ry shortcake. Do you think they'd like that?"
I must get some salt to eat on them." Into the house he ran, with his queer little kinky tail twisting around like a piece of strawberry shortcake, and Floppy got the salt. His mamma was busy getting supper, and she did not see him, and as his sister, Baby Pinky, was practising her piano lesson on the tin dishpan, she made so much noise Mrs.
We've special company fer dinner an' I want ye to behave yerself. If ye do, I'll give ye an extry piece of strawberry shortcake." Douglas was greatly amused at the conversation and candour of the mother and son. They understood each other perfectly, and were not the least bit abashed at the presence of strangers. There was no polished veneer about the widow's hospitality.
"I don't see it down on the bill of fare for breakfast," replied her father, "but I'll ask the waiter." One of the men, of whom there were many hurrying to and fro with big trays heaped high with dishes of food, came over to the Bunkers' table. "No, the strawberry shortcake isn't ready until lunch," he said. "But you can have hot waffles and maple syrup."
"Now, that's downright shamefu'," said Mrs. Heukbane, "to scorn the poor silly gait of a lassie after he's keepit company wi' her sae lang, and had his will o' her, as I make nae doubt he has." "It's but ower muckle to be doubted," echoed Mrs. Shortcake; "to cast up to her that her father's a barber and has a pole at his door, and that she's but a manty-maker hersell! Hout fy for shame!"
He don't do the bib act with his napkin, or try any sword-swallowin' stunt. "Now, what's it all about?" says I, as we gets to the pastry and demitasse. "Well," says Killam, after glancin' around sleuthy and seein' nobody more suspicious than a yawnin' 'bus boy, "I have found the lost treasure of José Caspar." "Have you?" says I, through a mouthful of strawb'ry shortcake. "When did he lose it?"
Temperance came in with plates of waffles and buttered shortcake, which she offered with a cut and thrust air, saying, as she did so, "I expect you can't eat them; I know they are tough." Everybody, however, accepted both. She then handed round the preserves, and went out to bake more waffles. By this time the cups had circled the table, but no one had tasted a morsel.
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