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Updated: June 5, 2025
Wilson," he said, nodding to a man in evening dress, who stood near by. Then he turned toward the dressing-rooms, and went down a corridor, and knocked upon one of the doors. A voice called, "Come in," and he opened the door; and there was a tiny room, with odds and ends of clothing scattered about, and the girl, clad in corsets and underskirt, sitting before a mirror. "Hello, Rosalie," said he.
There were two or three mud-stains on the laces of her sleeve and underskirt that were obtrusively incongruous. Her voice, which had, however, a ring of honest intention in it, was somewhat over-strained, and evidently had not yet adjusted itself to the low-ceilinged, conventual-like building. "There, children, don't mind me!
'We can't lie here any longer, I suppose, said May, sitting up wearily; 'and yet what can we put on? It makes one shiver to think of going down to luncheon in a ball dress! 'Besides, mine is all torn to pieces to make bandages, said Nuttie. 'I must put on the underskirt and my cloak again. 'Or Annaple might lend us something.
"Where they don't ever whip them, and where they don't mind 'em getting into mischief once in awhile." An hour later everything was ready for the start. Except for the daintily embroidered ruffles of her white linen underskirt, that would show below her old gingham dress, little Elsie might have been taken for the sorriest beggar in town. The dress was faded and outgrown.
I finished it some time ago, and since then I have been making a new underskirt for my Swiss muslin; the old one was not quite fresh." "There it is," said Bessie, half laughing, half vexed; "you are always ahead of me, Sibyl. Your contribution will be perfect, and your dress will be perfect, and I am always just "
I have been three times to Clementine about your underskirt, etc. September 25th. My dear Harvard I have carried out my plan, of which I gave you a hint in my last, and I only regret that I should not have done it before. It is human nature, after all, that is the most interesting thing in the world, and it only reveals itself to the truly earnest seeker.
When she came back she carried in her hand a broad piece of white cloth, which she laid before him on the grass. There was a look of modest reluctance in her eyes when he glanced quickly up at them. A cherished underskirt, ripped ruthlessly from waistband to ruffle, making one broad white flag of the finest texture, was her offering. "Use that, Hugh."
A skirt of orange-colored brocade, trimmed with tulle, and surrounded with three flounces, falls, cloud-like, from her girdle, which is set with cameos and unpolished pearls. With her left hand she raises slightly her skirts, revealing the embroidered gimps of a white taffeta underskirt, flashing in the moonlight.
"Well, almost nothing; a little night blouse, an underskirt ... both the one and the other white." "So-o! That must be number two hundred and seventeen ... How is she called, now? ..." "Susannah Raitzina." "I'll go and see maybe she's there. Well, now, mam'selles," he turned to the young ladies, who were dully huddling in the doorway, obstructing the light. "Which of you are the braver?
He felt his head it was bandaged, and it was bandaged, he was quite sure, with a piece of torn underskirt. He looked at the man again. "You haven't told me yet where I am." "Long Island," the other answered. "My name's Hanson. I keep a bit of a truck garden here." "Oh," said Jimmie Dale again. The man crossed the room, picked up an envelope from the table, and came back to Jimmie Dale.
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