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Updated: May 14, 2025
Phyllis said she didn't want to be mixed up in their rows. And instantly, of course, she was. "If you remember, you ought to say." "Of course she doesn't remember but she might say so." "I wish I'd had a brother instead of two whiny little kiddy sisters," said Peter. This was always recognised as indicating the high-water mark of Peter's rage. Bobbie made the reply she always made to it.
She does get into whiny states, and is regularly tiresome; and the more you notice her, the worse she is. I know Mamma thought so. 'My dear, a mother can venture on wholesome neglect when a sister's neglect is not wholesome. I am not accusing you of neglect, mind; only you want experience and sympathy to judge of a thing with a frame like Cherry's. Now, I will tell you what I want to do.
When Manley flung open the inner door, she gave a stifled exclamation; she had forgotten all about Manley. "By all the big and little gods of Greece!" he swore angrily. "Calves bawling their heads off in the corral, and you squalling that whiny stuff you call music in the house home's sure a hell of a happy place! I'm going to town.
The woman snatched the paper. Heads close together, the three stood about a smoking kerosene lamp. The woman was reading in a whiny, excited drawl: "'One thousand dollars reward for " "I told you so!" burst from the burly man. "Shut up! Listen!" cried the other. "'Irish setter," she read. "'Answers to name Frank. Notify R. A. Lancaster' Oh, here's a lot of streets and numbers 'New York City."
Miss Zielinski she was the governess in the dining-hall said: "Oh, very well," in the rather whiny voice that seemed natural to her, and went on reading. "Please, I don't think I know my way," ventured Laura. "Follow your nose and you'll find it!" said Miss Zielinski without looking up, and was forthwith wrapt in her novel again.
Near the counter where the food was served out one of the cooks swore interminably in a whiny sing-sing voice. "Gee, Bill, I've got a head," said Fuselli. "Ye're ought to have," growled Bill Grey. "I had to carry you up into the barracks. You said you were goin' back and love up that goddam girl." "Did I?" said Fuselli, giggling. "I had a hell of a time getting you past the guard."
A little whiny man alongside of me, whose chin was on his breast bone, spake downward along his gray flannel shirt bosom: "Just wyte," he said; "just wyte till England 'ears wot they done to us, 'erdin' us about like cattle. Blighters!" He spat his disgust upon the ground. We spoke to none of them directly, nor they to us that also being a condition imposed by Mittendorfer.
'Only I'm letter perfect in the turnin'-down act, but when it's the other way I ain't up in my lines." . . . Blister waved to a waiter and I saw there was to be no more. "Did you ever see her again?" I inquired. "Now you're askin' questions," said Blister. The hot inky odors of a newspaper plant took me by the throat during my progress in the whiny elevator to the third floor.
I have often wondered why it is that some men sensible men, too, in other matters should think it necessary to talk in a sing-song, or whiny voice, with a pathetic drawl, or through their noses, when they have to speak on religious subjects! I once heard an indignant clergyman say that he thought it was a device of the devil to turn sacred things into ridicule, but I cannot agree with that.
"Mamma, my legs do ache in bed," she said one day. "Beth, you really are a whiny child, you always have a grievance," her mother complained. "But, mamma, they do ache." "Well, it's only growing pains," Mrs. Caldwell replied with a satisfied air, as if to name the trouble were to ease it.
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