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Zebedee Pauling, whose ancestor had been an admiral and was never forgotten by the Pauling family Paulmouth was said to have been named in their honor arrived at the Ball back door just as the family was finishing the usual "picked-up" washday dinner.
Excuse me," she said, suddenly checking her mirth again and looking very red and solemn. "I like to hear you laugh," said Mary, "but what's it about this time!" "Mrs. Strauss is here. I told you she would be. She left her husband home to do the housework and today is washday that's the funny part of it!" Whatever Mrs. Ridge's ability as a critic of humour might be, at least she was a good prophet.
"They talked about us when John was here, ma, and they always talk about us; it doesn't matter much what they talk about; they wouldn't pay off the mortgage, nor the interest, nor raise Jack right, nor give me a chance to rest on washday. Some will say I was in the wrong, some that John was, and they all said that I was stuck-up and wouldn't visit with them when it wasn't so at all.
Linnet is 'wild, as you girls say, to see her house, and I don't know as she can tear herself away from that kitchen and new tinware, and she's fairly longing for washday to come that she may hang her new clothes on her new clothes line." "Oh, I wish I could go and help her!" cried Marjorie. "Miss Prudence, that little house does almost make me want to go to housekeeping!
"Right!" said Mr. Crow. "And Monday is washday at the farmhouse. Those white flags at Farmer Green's they were the family wash, hung out on the line to dry!" Then all Mr. Crow's neighbors crowded around him and told him that they wanted him for their leader and that they always had. They said that they knew all the time that the stranger was a fraud. "Where is he?" someone inquired.
She could eat nothing herself, and, when the table was cleared, prepared to do the week's washing, for Monday is always washday in Trumet. Noon came, dinner time, but still he did not come down. At last Keziah could stand it no longer. She determined to go to him. She climbed the steep stairs and rapped on the door of his room. "Yes?" she heard him say. "It's me," was the reply. "Mr.
What visions of dampness and disorder, of air malodorous with steam and soap, of meals delayed and hurriedly prepared, of tempers ruffled and the domestic machinery all disarranged and the discomforts of home prominently in the foreground, are called forth by that magic word washday!
Peter remembered that Miss Molly Brownell always doled out to his mother, at Monday's washday dinner, exactly one biscuit less than the old negress wanted to eat, and she always paid her in old clothes.
The white muslin curtains were already in the wash when Dorian looked at his mother in the summer kitchen. "What, washing today!" he asked in surprise. Monday was washday. "The curtains were black; they must be clean for tomorrow." "You can see dirt where I can't see it." "I've been looking for it longer, my boy. And, say, fix up the line you broke the other day." "Sure, mother."
For no special change was noticeable in Joe; on Sunday he abjured the world, but on Monday he made things uncomfortable for the Widow Macnilty, whose husband had died in the debt of Tackey & Gatter. A customer bought some gingham, on Joe's assurance that the colors were fast, but the first washday failed to confirm Joe's statement.
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