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Updated: June 22, 2025
Sweetie was cut out for the undertakin' business, by rights. He took things hard, he did. Every tick of the clock was a solemn moment for him, and me gettin' a stamp on crooked was a case that called for a heart to heart talk. He used to show me the books he was keepin', and the writin' was as reg'lar as if it'd been done on a job press.
And say, inside of three days I'd got the minin' business down to a science. Course it was a cinch. All I has to do is fold bunches of circulars, stick stamps on the envelopes, and lug 'em up to the general P. O. once a day. That, and chasin' out after a dollar's worth of cigars now and then for Mr. Pepper, and keepin' Sweetie jollied along, didn't make me round shouldered.
Oh, it would be too nice if we could always live together. My God! How unfortunate women are!" Then her eye fell upon Georges, who, seeing them kiss, was growing very red, and she kissed him too. Sweetie could not be jealous of a baby!
Nana in reply told her that she was to let them sleep on. But seeing Daguenet come into the room, she again grew tender. He had been watching her from the kitchen and was looking very wretched. "Come, my sweetie, be reasonable," she said, taking him in her arms and kissing him with all sorts of little wheedling caresses. "Nothing's changed; you know that it's sweetie whom I always adore! Eh, dear?
She gave a long, long stretch, and with a kindly, not yet fully reasoning smile, encircled Lichonin's neck with her warm, strong arm. "Sweetie! Darling!" caressingly uttered the woman in a crooning voice, somewhat hoarse from sleep. "Why, I was waiting for you and waiting, and even became angry. And after that I fell asleep and all night long saw you in my sleep.
Torney. A girl of thirteen, with her somewhat colourless hair in untidy braids, and a flannel bandage high about her throat, came downstairs at the sound of Julia's entrance. This was Regina Torney. "Well, it's Julia!" Mrs. Cox said. "And the darlin' sweetie you oughtn't to bring her out such weather, Julie! How's them little hands?"
They've got cushions with buckskin fringe presents from Dearie and Sweetie, I suppose, and they've got a cedar chest with brass hinges. Regular modern Daniel Boones, they are." "Oh, me, oh, my!" Westy whispered; "have they got jackknives hanging from their belts?" "Right the first time," Bert Winton said. "And leather cases of writing paper?" I said, just for fun.
Are we rehearsing, or is this a debating society? Miss Hobson, nothing is going to be written into anybody's part. Now are you satisfied?" "She said..." "Oh, never mind," observed Miss Winch, equably. "It was only a random thought. Working for the good of the show all the time. That's me." "Now, sweetie!" pleaded Mr. Cracknell, emerging from the collar like a tortoise.
As they came out on the edge of the clearing, and saw that all was quiet in the cabin, Dave said "We won't tell mother nothin' about the wolves to-night, sweetie, eh? It 'ld jest git her all worked up, an' she couldn't stand it when she's sick. We won't say nothin' about that till to-morrow!" "Yes!" murmured Lidey, "she'd be awful scairt!"
"Mannechka, sweetie, dearie," says Pasha lightly touching Manya's hand with emotion, "tell my fortune, my precious little child." "We-ell," Manya pouts her lips just like a child, "let's play a little more." "Mannechka, my little beauty, you little good-looker, my precious, my own, my dear..." Manya gives in and lays out the pack on her knees.
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