United States or Cyprus ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It was to be hoped, indeed, that when Aunt Sarah knit, Stefana could grow down again and play dolls. "Do you know her mother Evangeline's?" Miss Theodosia asked, after the child had gone. "Is Evangeline like her; is that where she gets her Evangelineness?" "No, she must get it from the father. The mother is exactly like Stefana, or may be I've got it the wrong end to.
Help!" she cried. "The horrible boy! Catch it! Kill it!" Jimmy gazed at her in amazement, and Barbara looked with interest at Aunt Evangeline's long expanse of shin. "My legs isn't like your legs," she said pleasantly and conversationally. "My legs is knees." It was some time before order was restored, the centipede killed, and Jimmy's remaining gifts thrown out of the window.
But Evangeline's sober mind continued its line of thought. "Stefana says if you'll hang somethin' red out when you're asleep, or got callers, or anythin', then she'll make us play funeral." "Oh, no not that!" No red flag of warning could justify playing funeral. "Well, Hold-Your-Breath, then. We can't make much noise holding our breaths! Stefana's the champion Hold-Your-Breath-er.
They mixed and beat and stirred together, and Evangeline never knew how many more eggs than two went into the rich golden batter. Elly Precious, tied for safety-first into one of Miss Theodosia's chairs, looked on with an interest more or less intermittent; when Evangeline's offerings of "teeny speckles" of toothsome batter were delayed, the interest flagged.
She ripped out some of the stitches and began again. She caught herself humming as she worked. "Please may I have my shirt?" a voice asked meekly. "That story is promised for next month. It's the twenty-eighth, now." Evangeline's Tract Man stood in the doorway, soft felt hat in hand, twinkles in his eyes. Evangeline's Tract Man was the Reformed Doctor!
Word Of The Day