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Updated: May 1, 2025
Taking her hands from her dish-water, she dried them hastily, went over to Mrs. Wackernagel, threw her arms about her neck, and kissed her. "Oh, Aunty Em, I love you like I've never loved any one except Miss Margaret and " She stopped short as she buried her face in her aunt's motherly bosom and clung to her. "And who else, Tillie?" Mrs.
"I got to do it, pop," Tillie's low voice answered, "I must obey to Christ." "What you sayin' to me? That you got to do somepin I tole you you haven't the dare to do? Are you sayin' that to ME, Tillie? Heh?" "I got to obey to Christ," she repeated, her face paling. "You think! Well, we'll see about that oncet!
"A Happy New Year to you," said Heiny gravely, and took his hand out of his pocket. Tillie's moist right hand closed over something. She smiled so that one saw all her broken black teeth. "The same t' you," said Tillie. "The same t' you."
"My resignation," Tillie continued, "must take effect immediately to-night. I trust you will have no difficulty in getting a substitute." She paused there was not a movement or a sound in the room. "I thank you for your attention." Tillie bowed, turned, and walked across the room. Not until she reached the door was the spell broken.
She stood beside the chair, holding Tillie's throbbing head to her side, while she tapped the bell which dismissed the children. "Now," she said, when the door had closed on the last of them and she had seated herself and drawn Tillie to her again, "tell me what you are crying for, little girlie." "Miss Margaret!"
Sally and Sammy clung to each other whimpering in terror, and the younger children about the room took up the chorus. "Tillie!" gasped her father. The girl tottered, her eyes suddenly rolled back in her head, she stretched out her hands, and fell over on the floor. Once more Tillie had fainted.
Without reason, against prudence, and at a moment's notice, he fell in love with a frivolous, golden-haired girl who used to tear about Simla Mall on a high, rough waler, with a blue velvet jockey-cap crammed over her eyes. Her name was Venner Tillie Venner and she was delightful.
"Well, you'll go by your pop's word and not join to them New Mennonites! Now I don't want to hear no more!" "Won't you buy me the plain garb, pop?" "Buy you the plain garb! Now look here, Tillie. If ever you ast me again to leave you join to anything but the Evangelicals, or speak somepin to me about buyin' you the plain garb, I'm usin' the strap. Do you hear me?"
"I am just dying to get out on the grass and light up under the kettles. That was a very bright idea of Adele's to fetch along part of the tea-house outfit." "Won't it be jolly to build miniature caves to keep the wind from the lamp?" suggested Cora. "I tell you, after all, the motor girls were poor housekeepers we had to take lessons from our business friends." This pleased Tillie immensely.
"I'll board you fur six, then," he growled. "And make me work from four in the morning until eight or nine at night? It is easier standing in the store. I can read when there are no customers." "To think I brung up a child to talk to me like this here!" He stared at her incredulously. "The rest will turn out even worse," Tillie prophesied with conviction, "unless you are less harsh with them.
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