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Updated: May 28, 2025
But it was Audrey Maynard who plumbed the full depths of bitterness in Herrick's heart. She had been teaching him to knit, and he was floundering through the intricacies of turning his first heel when one day he surprised her by hurling the sock, needles and all, to the other end of the room. "There's work for a man when his country's at war! My God!
My heart gave a leap. I bowed rather stiffly, but she affected not to have seen me. Very much annoyed in the evening by the laundress sending home an odd sock. Sarah said she sent two pairs, and the laundress declared only a pair and a half were sent. I spoke to Carrie about it, but she rather testily replied: "I am tired of speaking to her; you had better go and speak to her yourself.
In spite of the war between playwright and precisian, a Puritan youth could still in Milton's days avow his love of the stage, "if Jonson's learned sock be on, or sweetest Shakspere, Fancy's child, warble his native woodnotes wild," and gather from the "masques and antique pageantry" of the court-revel hints for his own "Comus" and "Arcades."
I will take a brace and get up a bite to eat, for strength we must have." They made a pretence of eating Susan's "bite," but it was only a pretence. Nobody at Ingleside ever forgot that black afternoon. Gertrude Oliver walked the floor they all walked the floor; except Susan, who got out her grey war sock. "Mrs. Dr. dear, I must knit on Sunday at last.
"Jest wan't' say et them 'air guns er likely t' come handy here 'most any minute. Give us guns, 'n' we 'll sock it to 'em." "We shall sock it to them, we shall indeed," said she, hurrying out of the room. "We shall make them to run for their lives." They were all in the dining room the men of the party save the general, who could not he awakened. Guns and pistols were loaded.
Just look, Elinory, did you ever see a worser hole than this?" As Mother Mayberry spoke she held up for Miss Wingate's interested inspection a fine, dark blue sock. They were sitting on the porch in the late afternoon and the singer lady was again at work on a bit of wardrobe for the doll daughter of her friend Eliza. "How does he manage such such awful ones?" asked Miss Wingate with a laugh.
"Amen!" replied Hapgood, who was watching the operation in full sympathy with his protege. "Eh! what's this?" added Tom, for his foot had met with an obstruction in its passage down the leg. He pulled off the sock, and thrusting his hand into it, took therefrom a letter enclosed in an envelope. "See that, uncle?" said he, exhibiting the prize. "What is it, Tom? Open it quick," replied Hapgood.
"You're getting all tired and hot," she continued, skilfully pursuing the agile and elusive dropped stitches down the grey woolen wake of the sock and bringing them triumphantly up to resume their place in the sun. "It takes me an age to get a pair of socks done for the Red Cross," Hinpoha grumbled on, "and they're as cross as two sticks if you drop a single stitch!
Reginald Butterwick; and there was a faint note of anxiety in his tone. "It's Mr. Vance's sock," said Pollyooly; and with gentle pride she held it up in a fashion to display its full proportions. Mr. Reginald Butterwick took two or three nervous steps to the right, looking askance at the sock as he moved. It was not really as large as a sack. "Big man, your guv'ner?
Buffalo chips and kindred fuel were plentiful about the plain, so a fire was quickly made, and he soon had one arm of the horse-shoe red hot, then holding the other wrapped in his sock he rudely sketched on the left shoulder of the helpless mustang a turkeytrack, his brand, the first time really that it had ever been used.
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