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Updated: June 21, 2025
"Miss Wilet," said Agnes, appearing at the door, "dey says dey's waitin' suppah fo' you and de captain." "Ah, then we must not linger here! Lulu dear, let Agnes tie this ribbon on your hair. She can do it more tastefully than I. Max, I see you are dressed for the evening." "Yes, Mamma Vi, your brother Herbert showed me my room a very nice one in the story over this and had my trunk carried up.
"John Jay," she called, "what you doing', chile?" "Heah I is, Mammy," he answered. "I'se jus' takin' keer o' the chillun!" "That's right, honey, I've got somethin' mighty good in my basket fo' we all's suppah. Hurry up now, an' tote in some kin'lin' wood." Never had John Jay sprung to obey as he did then. He shivered when he thought of his narrow escape.
Yet Mr. Bobbsey could not help but think that the cruel lash must have hurt Will more than the boy himself showed. "He he won't whip him any more, will he?" asked little Flossie. "No, not any more," said Mr. Bobbsey, for he had made up his mind he would, if necessary, take the boy away from the mean farmer before any more whipping could be done. "Suppah am ready!" called Dinah from the kitchen.
He was a tall, raw-boned, sandy-haired lad of seventeen, with stooping shoulders, slouching figure, big feet and toilworn hands. His large-featured, freckled face was kept from commonplaceness by its frank gray eyes, broad brow, firm chin and refined mouth. "Try an' mek out yer suppah, suh," Mrs. Rogers urged as she handed Dudley a cup of steaming coffee.
"Just think!" she exclaimed as she climbed into the carriage again. "A cawn-cob doll! And the attic at home is full of toys that I don't care for! I'm going to pick out a basketful to-morrow and bring them down to these children. And did you see that poah little Minnie Crisp? Only eight yeahs old, and doing the work of a grown woman. She was getting suppah while her mothah tended to the sick baby.
We made them a long time ago for the lamp-shades when the King's Daughtahs had an oystah suppah at the manse. I made all those purple mawning-glories and Betty made the yellow ones." Glancing over his shoulder, he happened to spy a familiar face behind him, the kindly old black face of his uncle's cook. "Howdy, Aunt Jane!" he exclaimed, with a friendly smile.
A Friendly Enemy "Law sakes, Miss Bertie Lee, yo' suppah done been ready an hour. Hit sure am discommodin' the way you go gallumphin' around. Don't you-all nevah git tired?" Aunt Becky was large and black and bulgy. To say that she was fat fails entirely of doing her justice. She overflowed from her clothes in waves at all possible points. When she moved she waddled.
Once she darted into the butler's pantry, where Miss Allison was slicing cake, to announce, in an excited whisper: "Agnes has actually had three invitations to suppah. She's gone in now with Mistah John Bond. I must run back and take charge of the sales, but I just had to tell you.
There are certain features about the Whatnot which, by the way, I consider a most original and attractive name that are intended to indicate " "Suppah, sah! An' Missy Sabel awaitin'," interrupted Solon, thrusting his woolly head into the doorway at that moment.
Delamere, when the woman had finished, "that will do." "Will you be home ter suppah, suh?" asked the cook. "Yes." It was a matter of the supremest indifference to Mr. Delamere whether he should ever eat again, but he would not betray his feelings to a servant. In a few minutes he was driving rapidly with Ellis toward the office of the Morning Chronicle. Ellis could see that Mr.
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