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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Are you a socialist?" asked Levison. "Am I my aunt Tabitha's dachshund bitch called Bella," said Argyle, in his musical, indifferent voice. "Yes, Bella's her name. And if you can tell me a damneder name for a dog, I shall listen, I assure you, attentively." "But you haven't got an aunt called Tabitha," said Aaron. "Haven't I? Oh, haven't I? I've got TWO aunts called Tabitha: if not more."
Almost, such was her acrimony and vindictiveness she wished Maryllia would die. "Serve her right!" she said to herself, setting her thin lips spitefully together "Serve her right!" There are a great many eminently respectable ladies of Miss Tabitha's temperament who always say 'Serve her right, when a pretty and charming woman, superior to themselves, meets with some misfortune.
He looked up quickly, and there in the branches of the wide-spreading sycamore tree by the corner of the house was a flutter of white which, upon closer inspection, proved to be Tabitha's nightgown, and Tabitha was inside it! "Tab " "Sh!" came the instant command. "Eat supper and come up to my room. I've got something to show you."
If only he had inquired about the name Tabitha had adopted, and discovered how real it had become! But intent upon his own thoughts, he missed this part of Tabitha's confession, and watched her set out for school hand in hand with Carrie, serene in the belief that all was well, and happy at her unexpected behavior in regard to school. "Well, I'm beat!"
Netlips would have styled him, was in a somewhat petulant mood, being tired of the constant scolding of the servants that went on around him, and being likewise moved to a sort of loathing repulsion at the contemplation of Miss Tabitha's waxy-clean face lined with wrinkles, and bordered by sternly smooth grey hair.
The little French woman was silent for a moment, and a deep frown wrinkled her usually placid brow; then she impulsively caught Tabitha's brown hands in her own and skipped joyfully as if she, too, were a girl in her teens, exclaiming excitedly, "I have it zat what you say? You crochet.
The new scholar had been in school just one week when one rainy day at recess while the children were playing quietly inside the building, as the weather was too forbidding to permit the usual games in the yard, Tabitha's sharp ears caught a snatch of conversation among the boys busy drawing horrible cartoons on the blackboard, and one of the speakers was her idol, Jerome Vane.
Drinker!" cried Tabitha's aunt. "Thee forgets there are gentlewomen present. Wilt have some preserve, Janice?" "No, I thank you," said the girl. "I'm not hungry." And she proved it by playing with what was on her plate for the rest of the meal. Not till the two girls retired did they have an opportunity to exchange confidences.
It wouldn't have mattered so much if Aunt Tabitha had said it at once after Miss Grizzel, but as she generally made a little pause between, it was sometimes rather awkward. But of course it was better to say "thank you" or "no, thank you" twice over than to hurt Aunt Tabitha's feelings. After breakfast Aunt Grizzel was as good as her word.
How, indeed, can a man do full justice to his aunt Tabitha's plum-pudding, or his uncle Joe's renowned rum-punch, if he has quaffed the steaming-bowl with the "Seven Poor Travellers," or eaten his Christmas dinner at the "Kiddleawink" a fortnight beforehand? Are not the chief pleasures of life joys as perishable as the bloom on a peach or the freshness of a rose?
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