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Updated: June 26, 2025
She was attired in a soft white waist and white riding breeches, but there was about her none of the tomboy so easily suggested by such togs. In spite of the masculinity of her attire the long, supple lines of her body were exquisitely feminine. And she was as relieved at the sight of him as he was glad to behold her. "I knew you hadn't gone away," said she, after a short silence.
But Mollie had broken away from the group and was rushing toward the soldier lads like the wild little tomboy she was. "Girls, it's the boys! it's the boys! it's the boys!" she yelled. "They're all tanned and they're at least ten inches taller, but it's the boys just the same."
He smiled and said "Tut!" and placidly catalogued her with, "You're the pluckiest girl I've ever seen, and it's all the more amazing because you're not a motion-picture Tomboy, but essentially exquisite " "I'm a grub." "Very well, then. You're a grub. So am I. And I like it. And when I make the big Alaskan trip next year I want you to go along! Claire!
"I can beat her all out running, I know; and I'll bet a penny she can't jump over the creek." "And don't you dare her to, Polly. Remember how you fell in. Oh, Hanny, she was a sight to behold!" "Well it had been raining, and the ground was soft, so I slipped a little on the start. But I've done it time and again." "And you're a regular tomboy. Girls don't train around that way in the city."
The application of the parable of Cinderella to her case was Mr. Phipps's favorite joke against Bessie Fairfax. "No, but it is on the road. I hear the roll of the wheels and the crack of Raton's whip," said she with a prodigious sigh. "So it is, Phipps that's true! We are going to lose our Bessie," said Mr. Carnegie, drawing her upon his knee as he sat down. "Poor little tomboy! A nice name Mrs.
"Broken, Dina," her Mother would gently correct, while he demanded, "How did you break it?" and scolded her for her careless tomboy ways. Slates three, $1.50 they were all down. And slates didn't cost so much come to think of it, even the red-edged ones, wound with black, that she always wanted.
Is that Gracie's frock you're mending? What an awful tear!" She came and stood by Mrs. Denys's side, speaking in a low, rather monotonous voice. A heavy strand of her hair fell over the work as she bent to look; she tossed it back with another sigh. "Gracie is such a tomboy," she said. "It's a pity, isn't it?" "My dear, you're tired," said Mrs. Denys gently.
One had a steamer chair next mine a pale, Broadway tomboy sort of girl in a boyish sailor suit, who looked as if she needed sleep. Without exactly being on the stage, she yet appeared to live on the fringe of it, and combined the slangy freedoms of a chorus girl with a certain quick wisdom and hard sense.
But she was not really a tomboy; she moved quietly, and her own bedroom was always neat and tidy. She had very little pocket-money and only seldom new clothes, not because the Archdeacon was mean, but because Joan was so often forgotten and left out of the scheme of things.
The nurses attributed Adrienne's cry and violent actions to a fit of furious madness. "Oh! you begin again to break the lamps that's your partickler fancy, is it?" cried Tomboy, angrily, as she felt her way in the dark. "Well! I gave you fair warning. You shall have the strait waistcoat on this very night, like the mad gal upstairs."
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