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I wouldn't want to be called Cocoanut Kisses, nor yet Lollypops, nor even Tootsie Rolls. Oh dear! I wish I could get a name such as my brother Curly has. But maybe I will some day. And now, if you please, I'll have a sour-milk lollypop." So the old lady dog storekeeper gave it to the little pig boy, and he handed her his penny.
I walked over, and there was Tootsie on the table beneath his cage. He was lying on his side, stone dead." "No way," Oliver said. "Stone dead. I don't know how he got out. I don't know what happened. All I know is that he died when the relationship did. I think his heart was broken." "What did you do?" "I buried him beneath a tree on the Eastern Prom," Arlen said.
On the last nasal note, the door of The Aura flew open and a resplendent figure crossed the chocolate-colored varnish of the floor. Tootsie herself was not more "simply grand." This was a young man, perhaps it would be more descriptive to say the young man that accompanies the young woman on the cover of the average American magazine.
Did naughty table hurt ickle tootsie pootsies? Baby say: ''Oo naughty table. Me no love 'oo." The Child despairs of ever learning English. What should we think ourselves were we to join a French class, and were the Instructor to commence talking to us French of this description? What the Child, according to the gentleman from Cambridge, says to itself is,
The cheerful little dog, quite unsuspicious of harm, had trotted after its mistress. Despite the clinging doll clothes, the tails of Bungle and Popocatepetl swelled, their backs went up, and they began to spit! "Tootsie!" screamed the doctor's wife in alarm. Dot shouted at the cats, too, but neither they, nor the dog, were in a mood to obey.
Then he has proved himself of aristocratic tendencies, has beautiful manners, is endowed with the human qualities of memory and discrimination, and is aesthetic in his tastes. Being the privileged character that he is, Tootsie always eats at the table with the family. He has his own chair and bib, and his manners are said to be exquisite.
I didn't know that." "Yes," Arlen said. "Tootsie belonged to William." His voice lingered on the name, and he looked out the window again. "I was just getting to know William. He asked me to keep Tootsie for him while he was away one summer . . . I suppose he was testing me." "Ah," Oliver said, vaguely. "Tootsie and I got along very well.
"Git erway f'om yere, you pesky cats!" shouted Uncle Rufus as Bungle and Popocatepetl charged the door on the trail of the terrified dog. "Oh, dear me! Don't let them out," begged Dot, "till I can get my doll's clothes off." "My poor Tootsie!" cried Mrs. Forsyth again. "Hush yo'! hush yo'!" said Uncle Rufus, kindly. "Dar's a do' shet 'twixt dat leetle fice an' dem crazy cats.
She darted between Uncle Rufus' legs, still yelping as loudly as she could. "Wha' fo' dat? wha' fo' dat?" ejaculated Uncle Rufus, and he fell back against the door which closed with a slam. If Tootsie had possessed a long tail it certainly would have been caught.
Bungle got in one free-handed slap at the little dog as she went under, while Popocatepetl caught her on the rebound as Tootsie came out. The long, silky hair of the dog saved her from any injury. But she was so scared that she yelped as though the claws of both cats had torn her. "Oh! my poor Tootsie!" wailed the doctor's wife. "They will kill her." Dot stood, open mouthed.
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