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Updated: May 23, 2025
He didn't show back at twelve-thirty, nor at twelve-forty-five. Some one else did, though. She was a nice little lady, one of the smooth-haired, big-eyed kind, as soft talkin' and as gentle actin' as the heroine in "No Weddin' Cake for Her'n," just before she gets to the weepy scenes.
As she passed "Weepy Mary," who was still writing at the table and crying bitterly, Elaine hesitated and looked at her curiously. Even after Milton had opened Bennett's door, she could not resist another glance. Instinctively Elaine seemed to scent trouble. Bennett was still studying the black-bordered card, when she greeted him.
Freshett had cooked all day, and washed dishes until the last skillet was in place, she had done as much as any neighbour ought to do, and the other things she went on and did were a rebuke to us. I felt sore, weepy, and tired out.
"Please say, `There, there, there; don't cry. It always goes with pats for weepy girls, you know.... O Mouse, you will be good to some woman some day." Her long strong arms reached up and drew him down. It was his head that rested on her shoulder. It seemed to both of them that it was he who was to be petted, not she.
Quickly the man obeyed, leading "Weepy Mary" and her "son" to the door, and waving them away as he locked it. They left, quite as much in the dark about the master criminal's identity as Elaine.
"Then why in the world don't you look after her a bit? I turned up unexpectedly at half-past one to-day, and found her sobbing her eyes out." "You found Lorraine sobbing her eyes out..." incredulously. "I did. She told me not to tell you, as it was only nerves but of course it wasn't. You know as well as I that Lorraine doesn't suffer from weepy nerves.
"Yell you little fool, yell," she whispered. Obedient to his "mother's" commands, and much to Milton's disgust, the boy started to cry in close imitation of his elder. Elaine was still holding the paper in her hands when they entered. "What does all this mean?" she demanded. "Weepy Mary," between sobs, managed to blurt out, "You are Miss Elaine Dodge, aren't you?
She's sleeping in the valley And the mocking bird is singing where she lies. Listen to the mocking bird, singing o'er her grave. Listen to the mocking bird, singing where the weeping willows wave." "You sing melancholy songs for one who is as cheerful as you are, Sam," said Harry. "That's so. I like the weepy ones best. But they don't really make me feel sad, Harry.
He made it almost as Salty as a Mother Song and filled it with Papa and Mamma and the Patter of Baby Feet. He used Love-Light and the Evening Prayer and the Heart-Strings and other venerable Paraphernalia. He had to commit Infanticide to make it Weepy enough for the last Stanza. The Author wrote this Stuff merely to Get Back at himself and see how Sloppy he could be.
She breaks out into a weepy spell and announces that she is going home. Does it, too, all by her lonesome, leaving Babe to trail along by the next train. "And for the life of me, Torchy," he declares, "I can't imagine why." "Well, let's try to piece it out," says I. "First off, how have you been spending your honeymoon?" "Oh, golf mostly," says he. "I was runner up in the big tournament."
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