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Into the eyes of Miss Smalley, the artist in draping, there crept the shrewd twinkle of Miss Smalley, the successful woman in business. She had been sitting back on her knees, surveying her handiwork through narrowed lids. Now she turned her gaze on Emma, who was smiling down at her. "Then for goodness' sake don't stop! I've found out that work is a kind of self-oiler.
"And and, if you please, my name is Barbara." The Smalley residence, where Mrs. Luretta Smalley, relict of the late Zenas T., accommodated a few "paying guests," was nearly a mile from the windmill shop and on the Orham "lower road." Mr.
"Among the innumerable testimonies to the purity and beauty of Garfield's character," says Mr. Smalley, "this address of the Primate of the English Church surely is one which all Americans may acknowledge with grateful pride." My task is drawing near a close. I have, in different parts of this volume, expressed my own estimate of our lamented President.
Slowly he ran his eyes down the lines as he read in a half whisper: I was walking down the National pike road toward Cloverdale with little Leigh in the twilight. Where the railroad crosses Clover Creek on the high fill we saw Tank Shirley and the young cashier, Terrence Smalley, who had disappeared after the bank failure.
"That will be all, Smalley," he said. Kennon waited until the door closed. "Ordinarily," he said, "I'd never have done a thing like that, but there were some very pressing reasons. However, I should have given her an injection of Somnol before we started. I'm criminally liable. If anything happens to her " His voice was tight with worry. "You'd give her an injection?" Brainard said.
In her shabby little dress, her steel-rimmed spectacles, her black-sateen apron, Smalley might have passed for a Bird Center home dressmaker. Yet, given a yard or two or three of satin and a saucer of pins, Smalley could make the dumpiest of debutantes look like a fragile flower. At a critical moment Emma stirred.
Angie Phinney! Why, when that poll parrot of hers died, Alph'us Smalley declared up and down that what killed it was jealousy and disapp'inted ambition; he said it broke its heart tryin' to keep up with Angie. Her ma was the same breed of cats. I remember " The talking proclivities of females is the one topic upon which Keturah's husband is touchiest.
I tried to tell them there was no cause for alarm, and to beg grandma's pardon for turning her house into a "sick hospital," but though not quite unconscious, I appeared entirely so. "I wish you had sense to have gone for Dr Tinker when Dr Smalley wasn't in," said the old lady, with nothing but solicitude in her voice.
"Al," he said, "what's good for a cold?" "Why?" asked Mr. Smalley, in true Yankee fashion. "You got one?" "Hey? Oh, yes! Yes, I've got one." By way of proof he coughed until the lamp chimneys rattled on the shelf. "Judas! I should think you had! Well, there's 'Pine Bark Oil' and 'Sassafras Elixir' and two kinds of sass'p'rilla that's good for most everything and Is your throat sore?" "Hey?
When leaving him he caught sight of me in the corner, and started as if he had been hit by a bullet, then made as if he had not seen me and was going out, but reconsidered and came to speak to me. "Well, what have you done?" he said. I replied that I had put about 5000 words on, and was only waiting for the odds and ends from Smalley.
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