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Updated: June 16, 2025
"I want shooder in my soup!" "But, darling, mommie doesn't eat sugar in her soup!" "Shooder! Dinkie wants shooder, shooder in his soup!" "Daddy never eats shooder in his soup, Sweetness." "I want shooder!" "But really nice little boys don't ask for sugar in their soup," argued the patient-eyed Struthers. "Shooder!" insisted the implacable tyrant. And he got it.
I remember seeing Struthers run gabbing and screaming about the room and then try to bury herself under her mattress, like the silly old she-ostrich she was, with her number sevens sticking out from under the bedding. I remember seeing Whinnie picking up one of the white things that had rolled in through the broken window.
Struthers looked like a dose of seasickness on a sour stomach. "Get your hat. Quick! I jobbed him, gentle and encouraging. "Age allus commands respect. Therefore the sight of a six-foot, grizzled Klondiker in a wide hat, benevolently prodding the night editor in the short ribs and apple sauce, with eight bright and chilly inches, engendered a certain respect in the reportorial staff.
Struthers is now in England, where he has settled down. ~David Hill.~ A most unselfish player was Mr. Hill. He was slow, but sure, and if ever a man showed an example in the field by at once passing on the ball when necessary, and never opening his mouth from kick-of to time call, it was he. One of the prominent figures all through quite a decade of seasons for his old club, Mr.
Yesterday Lady Alicia, who is now driving her own car, picked up Peter from his fire-guard work and carried him off on an experimental ride to see what was wrong with her carbureter the same old carbureter! She let him out at the shack, on her way home, and Struthers witnessed the tail end of that enlèvement. It spoilt her day for her.
Struthers first appeared that the married men slipped away to her house while their wives were in the nursery. You and dear Henry, Louisa, must stand in the breach as you always have." Mr. and Mrs. van der Luyden could not remain deaf to such a call, and reluctantly but heroically they had come to town, unmuffled the house, and sent out invitations for two dinners and an evening reception.
His religion alone is enough to make him so; for it is a scheme of personal salvation significantly described once by the Reverend Mr. Struthers of Barbie. "At the Day of Judgment, my frehnds," said Mr. Struthers "at the Day of Judgment every herring must hang by his own tail!" Self-dependence was never more luridly expressed. The better for him if it be so; from that he gets the grit that tells.
It was like asking a millstone to pirouette. In the first place, everything seemed wrong. I had a cold in the head from the sudden drop in the temperature, and I was arrayed in that drab old gingham wrapper which Dinkie had cut holes in with Struthers' scissors, for I hadn't cared much that morning when I dressed whether I looked like a totem-pole or a Stoney squaw.
Lady Alicia Newland's English maid, known as Struthers, arrived at Alabama Ranch yesterday afternoon and asked if I'd take her in. She'd had some words, she said, with her mistress, and didn't propose to be treated like the scum of the earth by anybody. So the inevitable has come about.
The women sat in the front of the box, conspicuously. They were both poor, they were rather excited. But they belonged to a set which looked on social triumphs as a downfall that one allows oneself. The two men, Lilly and Struthers, were artists, the former literary, the latter a painter. Lilly sat by Josephine in the front of the box: he was her little lion of the evening.
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