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Updated: June 17, 2025
In trying to cross a street, Tommy was knocked down, and was for a second under the feet of a plunging horse. But he got out, and reached the sidewalk, with Sissy still safe, and he did not know that his arm was broken. "Wasn't it lucky that Sissy was on the other arm?" he said, speaking to no one. That awful day! Nobody who lived through it will ever forget it.
Dat awful 'scape keeps runnin ebin in my dreams. Bress de good Lawd dat brung Marse Houghton right dar in time!" "Missy Ella an' Marse Houghton oughter hab dey own way now, shuah," Sissy remarked. "I reckon dey will," Aun' Sheba answered. "Missy Ella look kin'er dat-a-way.
Every sound of insects in the air, every stirring of the leaves, every whisper among these men, made Sissy tremble, for she thought it was a cry at the bottom of the pit. But the wind blew idly over it, and no sound arose to the surface, and they sat upon the grass, waiting and waiting.
From that time Sissy lived at Stone Lodge on equal terms with the rest of the family, and after Louisa's marriage, cared for fretful Mrs. Gradgrind in her invalidism, with a sweet patience that endeared her to the poor woman. Indeed the entire household were deeply attached to Sissy, and, seeing the unselfishness of her daily life, even Mr.
Then, throwing it down, "No, you shall have yellow," she exclaimed: "Laura Falconer's complexion is something like yours, and she always wears yellow. As soon as one yellow dress is worn out she gets another." "She is a most remarkable young woman if she waits till the first one is worn out," said Percival. "Am I to put your rose in or not?" Sissy demanded.
And he sat as it were in a dull dream, trying to realize how the life which in the depths of his poverty had seemed so beautiful and safe was suddenly cut short, and how Sissy at that moment lay in the darkness, waiting waiting waiting. The noise of the train took up his thought, and set it to a monotonous repetition of "Waiting at Ashendale! waiting at Ashendale!"
The farmer's wife was awful good to me, and pretty quick she was callin' me 'Jamie. I don't know why, but she just did. And one day father heard her. He got awful mad so mad that I remembered it always what he said. He said 'Jamie' wasn't no sort of a name for a boy, and that no son of his should ever be called it. He said 'twas a sissy name, and he hated it.
You understand what I mean. Go along. The boy stopped in his rapid blinking, knuckled his forehead again, glanced at Sissy, turned about, and retreated. 'Now, girl, said Mr. Gradgrind, 'take this gentleman and me to your father's; we are going there. What have you got in that bottle you are carrying? 'Gin, said Mr. Bounderby. 'Dear, no, sir! It's the nine oils. 'The what? cried Mr.
But you mustn't forget your milkin'. I dunno what our cow'd do this morning if it wasn't for Joey. But he'll milk her, him and Benny Hingston, between them, somehow. Benny stayed with him last night." "I did forget the milking," the girl said, putting the baby's little chemise on. "But I'll do it now. Sissy will have to wait till after breakfast for her washing."
And I said, Miss;" here Sissy fairly sobbed in confessing to her great error; "I said it was nothing, Miss to the relations and friends of the people who were killed I shall never learn," said Sissy. "And the worst of all is, that although my poor father wished me so much to learn, and although I am so anxious to learn, because he wished me to, I am afraid I don't like it."
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