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She took off her hat, and, morally speaking, tucked up her sleeves and prepared for action. While her mother was attacking her father, she tried to restrain her mother, so far as filial reverence would allow. During the prince's outburst she was silent; she felt ashamed for her mother, and tender towards her father for so quickly being kind again.

He was at his best in this vein when he was alone with Serena in the kitchen she with a piece of sewing in her lap, sitting beside the lamp; he in the corner by the stove, with the brown violin tucked under his chin, wandering on from one air to another, and perfectly content if she looked up now and then from her work and told him that she liked the tune.

When Ah Fe opened this in the dim solitude of his kitchen, he found a little girl's apron, freshly washed, ironed, and folded. On the corner of the hem were the initials "C. T." Ah Fe tucked it away in a corner of his blouse, and proceeded to wash his dishes in the sink with a smile of guileless satisfaction. Two days after this, Ah Fe confronted his master. "Me no likee Fiddletown. Me belly sick.

"That's a mighty pretty dress," said Lizzie, admiringly. "I made it, all but the buttonholes," Anne answered proudly. "Martha did those." "Do her shoes really, truly come off?" asked Lizzie. "Yes, they do. And her stockings, too. Look here." The two girls played happily together with Honey-Sweet until Mrs. Collins declared that Anne was tired and tucked her away with Lizzie in a trundle-bed.

She had a doll, its raiment in about the same condition as her own, tucked under one arm. Hat she had none. Mr. Winslow inspected her in his accustomed deliberate fashion. "Guess you've been havin' a pretty good time, haven't you?" he inquired. The small visitor's answer was given with dignity. "Yes," she said. "Will you please tell me if you are the windmill man?"

She had never cared to look at it but once, having read all the best of its contents in more attractive volumes, so Becky kept it tucked away in the farther corner of her rustic closet, and evidently thought it a safe place to conceal a certain little secret which Emily now discovered.

Rodin tucked his umbrella under his left arm, took up the greengrocer's basket with his right hand, entered the dark passage, crossed the little court and mounted with light step to the second story of a dilapidated building; there, drawing a key from his pocket, he opened a door, which he locked carefully after him.

Comprehending the meaning of this incident, he drew his hand across his mouth to conceal the smile that could not be wholly restrained. Then he hurried back into the room to see that his child was "tucked up" and properly covered for the night.

Austin, unseen by the miserable Thomas on the front seat, and unreproved by the weary and chilly Sylvia, "tucked the robe around her" and then, apparently, forgot to take his arm away. Moreover, he searched in the darkness for her small, cold fingers, and gathered them into his free hand, which was warm and big and strong. As they neared the house, he spoke to her.

It merely means the marshalling of one's forces, the command of one's self and the ability to make others recognize that we are on the map because we belong there. And one of the quickest ways to accomplish this is to have a smile tucked away for instant use. Again, this does not mean that we are to carry round a ready-to-wear grin which we wear only as we are ushered into the presence of another.

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