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The King marvelled and said to him, 'What makes thee weep, O youth? 'How should I not weep, answered he 'being in such a plight? Then he put out his hand and lifted the skirt of his robe, and behold, he was stone from the waist downward. When the King saw this his condition, he grieved sore and lamented and cried out, 'Alas! alas! and said, 'Verily, O youth, thou addest trouble to my trouble.
I do hope we won't tear our clothes!" said careful Helena; while Molly returned with native carelessness: "Well, I think a ride to the top of the Rockies is worth at least one habit!" "I shan't spoil mine, not 'nless I get tumbled off Blanca, someway. I've got dozens of safety-pins and I shall pin my skirt I mean drawers whatever they call these 'divided' things so tight they can't get torn.
She gathered her dripping skirt back as she bent forward a little and peered into the darkness. The rain fell in sheets, now, with the unquavering sound of a steadily rushing torrent. It would be madness to go out into it. A shiver ran through her, and another. She was very cold and miserable. No doubt Griggs had a fire upstairs, and a pleasant light in his study. He would be there, hard at work.
"To go back sometime, there was a certain skirt that I used to room with in Chicago when we were both broke, but one night she went out with a bunch of siss-boom-ah! boys and came home with a large and juicy snoot full and spent the early morning hours in leaning out of the window of the apartment and whistling through her fingers to the milkmen, as well as staging a disrobing number in the middle of the room with the curtains up to such an extent that the inhabitants of the outlying districts had to wait sometime for their morning milk.
Seeing Nekhludoff, she unbent herself and, all red and animated, put aside the broom, and wiping her hands on her skirt, she stood still. "You are putting things in order?" asked Nekhludoff, extending his hand. "Yes, my old occupation," she answered and smiled. "There is such dirt here; there is no end to our cleaning." "Well, is the plaid dry?" she turned to Simonson.
Mavis instantly pulled up her skirt in true country fashion to make a cloak, and told Mary to help her open the kitchen door. "You bide where you be, Mrs. Dale," said the old charwoman. "You ben't goin' to be no use of any kind out there, and you may bring yourself to a misfortune." But Mavis insisted on struggling through the doorway, into the rude embrace of the weather.
Suddenly there was a flash of red on a veranda farther down the street, and a long, musical whistle. Cynthia jumped up and waved madly. The flash of red, speeding toward her, developed into a bright red sweater, cap, and skirt. "Don't scold! Now you mustn't be cross, Cynthia. Anne was just putting a big batch of sugar-cookies in the oven, and I simply had to wait till they were done!
It's what they are," said the youth. "What I want to know is, are they all here?" "How interesting that you don't drop your h's," said Anna-Felicitas, gazing at him. "The rest of you is so like no h's." The youth said nothing to that, the line of thought being one he didn't follow. "Those are all our grips, I think," said Anna-Rose counting them round the corner of Anna-Felicitas's skirt.
The doctor's wife, also, who had come of a grand family, and appeared always on festive occasions in some well-preserved splendor of her maiden days, which had been prolonged, drew back, spreading out with both hands a vast expanse of purple velvet skirt. She quite eclipsed as with a murky purple cloud the two meek elderly women and a timid young girl who sat behind her.
Moreover, Scotch knights do come into the story; Carlo Magno sends Rinaldo off to fetch recruits and he returns with an army of Scotch paladins under Zerbino, the Prince of Scotland. Samson ranks with Christians because he is on the right side in religion and that is why his skirt was really a skirt.
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