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Updated: May 25, 2025
But Phœbe Metz did not dismiss the matter so easily. She turned in her seat and gave one of Mary's obnoxious curls a vigorous yank. "Tattle-tale!" she hurled out madly. "Big tattle-tale!" "Yank 'em again," whispered David, seated a few seats behind the girls, but Phares called out a soft, "Phœbe, stop that."
"Ach, the poor kid" David was all sympathy and tenderness. "Let her get punished. Pulling Mary's hair like that!" "Well, Mary tattled. I was wishing Phœbe'd yank that darned kid's hair half off." "Mary just told the truth. You think everything Phœbe does is right and you help her along in her temper. She needs to be punished sometimes." "Ach, you make me tired, standing up for a tattle-tale!
"Yea, tattle-tale, girls are all tattle-tales!" He struggled to escape but the hold of his sister was vise-like. "Will you leave nests alone?" she demanded. "Ah, who wants to steal eggs? I just brought you one 'cause I thought you'd like it." "Well, I don't. So let the eggs where they belong," she said as she relaxed her clasp and he rose.
"Oh, Tom, too!" gasped Helen, delighted. Then she turned and said, in a whisper: "Ruth!" "Come on and let that tattle-tale alone!" exclaimed Mary Cox. "Tell her, and she'll run to Miss Reynolds with it." Helen went with her. Had Ruth Fielding possessed the power of movement just then, she would have gotten out of the wagon and run away to the dormitory.
"Well, you're way off! How could I possibly know anybody they don't know?" "You do, though. You had some people come to see you, and the Farnsworths didn't meet them at all." "How do you know?" "Patty told me." "Tattle-tale! It's none of her business if I did!" "Now, look here! I won't stand for such talk about Patty! You stop it!
Whenever there was trouble at recess, and some one pushed or some one else had their gathers torn out, or, in actual war, names were called, and "mean thing" and "tattle-tale" brought sobbing little maids to the teacher's arms, or when loss and disaster in the way of missing blocks of rubber, broken slate pencils, or ink-stained reader covers sent floods of tears down small faces, this teacher always came to the rescue and soothed and patted and invariably wound up with these exact words, "There, there, don't let us say anything more about it, and then we'll all be quite happy."
Why, I would have had to call off the dogs before I was half through the job." "He's probably told her all about it by now," Skinner suggested. "Don't get him wrong," Cappy protested. "He's no tattle-tale. He'll fight fair. However, as I was saying, I couldn't do anything raw, Skinner. I had planned, when Matt reached Panama and discovered he had been double-crossed to pass the buck up to you!"
At first I took it all as a joke; then, after some time, I wrote to my mother, and she wrote back that everything was quite so, and that she recalled something of the whole matter." Don Telmo's gaze strayed over toward Manuel. "What are you doing here?" he snarled. "Get out; I don't want you going around telling tales...." "I'm no tattle-tale." "Very well, then, get a move on."
His high and mightiness had the whole story of the accident from some tattle-tale. He wouldn't give me a chance to say a word hardly. One more break in the speeding line and our cars go home for good. He certainly laid down the law to me. I've a mind to tell you something else." Leslie paused before the door of her room, hand on the knob. "What is it? You know I never tell tales, Les."
"It came from the carriage." "Mumps, you're nothing but a sneak and tattle-tale," was the reply to this, from several older cadets; and, afraid of having his ears boxed on the sly, John Fenwick, nicknamed Mumps by everybody in the Hall, ran off. "Which of you fired the cracker?" demanded Josiah Crabtree, advancing to the carriage step. There was no reply, and he turned to the, driver.
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