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Updated: May 31, 2025
"We otter make a wish!" They made it, and the metaphoric wish-bone parted with a jerk, Omar Ben rolling upon his lordly back in the healthy dirt; but he rose and devoured his frog-leg to its smallest bone, wishing with all his heart that the frog had been a bigger frog. Then he licked his chops and looked in admiration on his worldly friend.
Such heaps of good things in the pantry! And then the dinner! The big roast turkey, and celery, and a big dish of red cranberries, and other good things! "I got the wish-bone!" cried Rose, as she finished her plate. "Let me help pull it with you, when it gets dry!" begged Russ, and then, in a whisper, he said: "If I get the wish I'll wish we could find the ghost." "So'll I," said Rose.
"Look what I dug up," Cleo exclaimed, displaying a rather disfigured pair of tennis shoes. "Jerry decorated them last summer, when he was trying out some new water colors. See that emblem there?" pointing to something like a wish-bone design. "Well, that's his frat emblem," she told her companions. "Then it's decided we let the shoes go, and all our poor luck with them," said Isabel.
How she would give the little wee baby a "wish-bone," though it could not hold it one minute in its limpsy little fingers; and how she would keep on passing round nuts, and oranges, and grapes, and apples, and wonder what had become of all their appetites.
There have been times when, if I could have had "Capacity, two turkey thighs, one wish-bone, trimmings, and two pieces of pie" stenciled on me, I would have gotten along better. I think they ought to try to make these Olympic games more useful to our nation by instituting a Christmas dinner marathon.
"I'm free to confess that if I had been Sir Lancelot, I'd have liked her a great deal better if she had been a cheerful sort of body, and had stayed alive. Then if she had come rowing up in a nice trig little craft, instead of that spooky old funeral barge, and had offered me a wish-bone and an olive, I'd have thought them twice as fetching as a lily and that doleful letter.
A dish of cranberry sauce stood at one end of the table, and at the opposite end a dish of apple sauce. "Do you think you can carve the turkey, Mr. Morton?" asked Mrs. Frost. "I will at least make the attempt." "I want the wish-bone, Mr. Morton," said Maggie. "No, I want it," said Charlie. "You shall both have one," said the mother. "Luckily each of the chickens is provided with one."
What tickles my wish-bone is what I can see for myself on their silly faces, half of 'em trying to look as if they know how it's done and the other half all grins.
Nickie clicked his tongue sympathetically. "Well," he said, "you might pick a hone. That wouldn't be very fattening, and it might delude your stomach with the idea you were having something to eat." Bonypart, the Living Skeleton, took the wish-bone with a few shreds of chicken on it. "Thanks," he said, "it might be a comfort." He sucked the bone fondly.
"I don't need to be rescued!" " to rescue you take you back to Tarsus, where you'll be safe until the trouble's over and then hurry to the help of our own man." "Who is your own man? Tell me about him." "He's a prince." "Really?" "No, really an earl Earl of Montdidier. White. White all through to the wish-bone. Whitest man I ever camped with. He's the goods."
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