Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: August 18, 2024
"What?" "Oh, no matter. I know." "Winnie Breynton!" "Well," said Winnie, with the air of a Grand Mogul feeding a chicken, "I don't care if I tell you. We've had a temmygral." "A telegram!" "I just guess we have; you'd oughter seen the man. He'd lost his nose, and——" "A telegram! Is there any bad news? Where did it come from?" "It came from Bosting," said Winnie, with a superior smile.
Such a tramp as this was not at all suited to his capacities of feet or temper, and if his mother had been there she would have managed to make him happy in staying home. But Winnie had received quite too much encouragement; he had no thought of giving up his bargain now. "Gypsy Breynton, you just needn't talk. I'm goin' chestnotting. I'm five years old.
"Who said you were a railroad?" "Whoever wrote Gypsy Breynton, R. R., with my red ink." "That doesn't stand for railroad." "Doesn't? Well, what?" "Regular Romp." "Oh!" "I can't help it," said Gypsy, after supper; "I can't possibly help it, and it's no use for me to try." "If you cannot help it," replied Mrs.
Breynton, presently, with one of her pleasantest smiles, and as Mrs. Breynton's smiles were always pleasant, this was saying a great deal. "And the Sunday things on, too—in honor of our coming? How pleasant it all seems! and how glad I am to be at home again." Gypsy looked radiant—very much, in fact, like a little sun dropped down from the sky, or a jewel all ablaze.
Breynton had a great fancy for working over his trees and flowers, and, if he had not been a publisher and bookseller, might have made a very successful landscape-gardener. Poor health had driven him out of the professions, and the tastes of a scholar drove him away from out-door life; he had compromised the matter by that book-store down opposite the post-office.
"And muddy," put in Gypsy, with twinkling eyes, "from head to foot, black as a shoe." "And muddy child?" finished Mrs. Breynton, smiling in spite of herself. "But Joy wanted to take him, and I told her so. It was her own bargain." "I know that. But we are not speaking of bargains, Gypsy; we are speaking of what is kind and generous. Now, how does it strike you?"
Now, mother!" "But supposing it rains?" suggested Mrs. Breynton. "Oh, we'll take our water-proofs." "The tent will be dry enough," put in Tom, bringing in his forces like a good soldier, now he was fairly enlisted. "But if you catch cold and get sick, my dear; Tom won't want to cut short his excursion to bring you home." "There's Mr.
"O-oh, what a blessed little mother you are! What should I do without you?" "Mother's darling daughter! What should she do without you?" said Mrs. Breynton, softly. But not softly enough. Gypsy looked up suddenly and saw a pale face peering out at them from behind the curtain, its great eyes swimming in tears, its lips quivering. The next minute Joy left the room.
Breynton, marm!" Mrs. Breynton stepped up to her. "What was that ye read t'other day, 'bout liars not goin'clock into the kingdom of heaven? I 'most forgot." Gypsy crept out, softly.
The fever is very severe; possibly—contagious," said Mrs. Breynton, quietly. Mrs. Breynton made it a rule to have very few concealments from her children. All family plans which could be, were openly and frankly discussed. She believed that it did the children good to feel that they had a share in them; that it did them good to be trusted.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking