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Updated: May 29, 2025


Holton tried to be as cordial as his host. That he was very anxious to appear agreeable was evident. "Oh, them slow-pokes?" he said, laughing. "We didn't wait for them. We pushed on ahead. We reckoned as you would be glad to see us." "And so I am." "One in particular, maybe," Holton answered, with a crude attempt at badinage. He glanced archly from the young man to his daughter.

As from a great distance, the mother heard a confused rush in the hall, and then, piercing through the dreamlike unreality of the moment, came the sweet, high note of a girl's voice, laughing, but with the liquid uncertainty of tears quivering through the mirth. "Oh, Marietta! Where's Mother? Aren't you all slow-pokes not a soul to meet us at the train where's Mother? Where's Mother?

Hippy sighed dolefully. "Then I would never have been obliged when out on these excursions to humbly beg for crumbs to sustain my failing strength till such time as you slow-pokes saw fit to eat." "Don't I always give you things to eat when everyone else laughs at you?" demanded Nora belligerently. "Yes, my noble benefactor," whined Hippy, "but you didn't to-day."

"I don't mind. I like waiting for slow-pokes! It's nothing to me if I miss a dozen appointments and get driven out of the dream business by that old what's-his-name Welsh Rabbit!" This sort of talk was rather annoying, and after a while the children decided not to heed it any longer.

He wished to learn the trade of a locksmith; a fine trade, always red-hot iron and fire around one, and danger, too; that suited him, but, like me, he had a bad head couldn't agree with the slow-pokes: so he returned to his family, and began to maraud on the river.

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