Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 31, 2025
A little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She no longer saw even pink. She got up briskly and began turning back her cuffs. First, she would build the kitchen fire; it must roar and snap, with all the work it had to do to-night. She would heat a lot of water, for only boiling water could take out Stefana's awful starch. While the water was heating, she would eat her supper.
I haven't quite got it ready yet," for there were the two little pink hearts to add, Stefana's heart and a little dream-heart. She smiled tenderly over the fashioning of those little pink hearts. Miss Theodosia was not an artist they wavered and leaned, but they leaned toward each other! Perhaps they were better to be little leaning hearts. She carried the cake over, covered with a napkin.
An' somebody's gone an' spilled a drop of somethin' on that beautiful bosom!" "A tear-drop, Evangeline, because she wouldn't give it to me." "Tea drop!" sniffed Evangeline. "Guess I know! After all Stefana's work! Miss Theodosia, can Elly Precious eat your grass? He's out there now. He don't really eat it; he just kind of pretends. Mother says Elly Precious ought to be put out to pasture.
Her plaintive reveries took the shape of a sober little dream wherein one Theodosia Baxter tottered on a cane and another walked briskly and youngly among Johns. Both Theodosias were thirty-six. "Mercy!" she exclaimed, waking up. "Where's my cane? I must go and iron Stefana's dresses!" She felt oddly refreshed. Queer dream to refresh one! She found herself thinking kindly of Stefana.
The children slept the profound sleep of childhood and childhood's unbelonging toil. Sleep was smoothing Stefana's roughened little nerves with gentle hand and fortifying her courage for yet more strenuous toils to come. Evangeline's weary little arm and tongue were resting. Miss Theodosia prowled softly, to avoid disturbing the little box-house.
In the natural order of her pleasantly migratory, luxurious life, she had rarely come into close contact with careworn or strained faces; this contact through the small, clear lenses seemed startlingly close. Stefana's lean and anxious face, the child's baby-bent little back, like the back of an old woman it was at these Miss Theodosia looked through her pearl glasses.
"While I was gettin' Stefana's starch at the store; I asked if I could, till I got back." Miss Theodosia's face put on sternness. "What was the mother of the Benjamin baby thinking of, to let you?" she demanded. "Oh, I don't know I don't know! That's a very speckled baby, anyway, an' perhaps she didn't know measles from speckles.
The baking time was for Evangeline a period of utmost anxiety there were so many direful things that might happen to Stefana's cake. If it fell down or burned up "Oh!" she breathed with infinite relief when the strain was over, and only lovely things had happened to the cake, "I'm so happy I could sing if I had any vocal strings! That's queer about me, isn't it?
We've got everything ready, only one bow, an' Stefana's piecin' that. Oh my darlin' dear!" The curtain had gone down. Theodosia Baxter stood quite alone in her big room. In her ears was suddenly the shriek of a steam whistle of welcome; it died away, and the silence ached. A crumpled something half under a chair caught her eye and she openly sobbed. It was a forgotten little nightgown.
I don't mean Stefana's, of course, but rich folks' birthday cakes." "I mean Stefana's. Evangeline, we'll have thirteen candles!" but inwardly she was wondering if forty would not fit better round the edge of aged little Stefana's birthday cake. "And we'll decorate it write something on the top, you know. We'll make the Story Man do it for us." Evangeline was awed into near-silence.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking