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Updated: June 21, 2025
How is it that grandpapa's name is in the papers when he has been dead all these years? I tell you I saw it, a little paragraph in today's paper, headed, 'Mr. Luke Raeburn. Is this another namesake who has something to do with him?"
"You must go first," sang out the little doctor, as Grandpapa's carriage drove up; "you are the leader, and we'll all follow you." "Yes, yes," shouted the parson, like a boy.
This was best of all so Polly and Jasper thought; and Phronsie was content to pass hour after hour there, by Grandpapa's side, and imagine all sorts of pretty pictures and stories in and about the snow-clad heights of the majestic mountain.
Such a storm we have never witnessed in our day; for that only happened in grandpapa's time, when he was quite a little boy. Perhaps we shall never experience a storm of the kind, but our grandchildren may; and we can only hope and pray that all may stay at home while the storm is moving the shields. A mother sat by her little child; she was very sad, for she feared it would die.
For some time I stood contemplating the venerable appearance of these two, nor could I resist a smile at the singular occupation they had so readily adopted. Uncle Dib seemed happy, and evidently had a keen sense of what the consistency of the stew must be to make the flounder palatable. Grandpapa's countenance, nevertheless, wore an air of deep anxiety.
"Why cannot it be an item of duty for the rural police to give information of his extortion and neglect? Those poor women are robbed, and they are utterly helpless to resist it. It is a greater crime than stealing on the highway." "Do any of grandpapa's people live at Morte?" Bessie asked. "No, I think not; they are ours and Mr.
And then a huge white silk handkerchief, as big as a small sail, was brought down from grandpapa's dressing-room, so that nobody should see the least bit "in the world," as Marian had observed with great energy; and the work of blinding was commenced. "I ain't big enough to reach round," said Marian, who had made an effort, but in vain.
"What's wrong with it?" "Nothing nothing. Only it isn't exactly what you'd call a gentleman." "Oh. Well, I think you might have told me that before." "I've been trying to tell you." Kitty reflected a moment. "So it's making a catalogue, is it? Whose bright idea is that?" "It was grandpapa's. It's mine now." She did not mention that it was also Horace Jewdwine's.
"Give my child to your little girl, and tell her to take good care of it," she said. As Phronsie's French had long been one of Grandpapa's special responsibilities in the morning hours, she spoke it nearly as well as Polly herself, so the man grasped the doll as he had seized the money before. "And now," said Mr. King, "you are not going to run away this time without telling me oh, bless me!"
"Didn't I tell you?" cried Jimmy. "Grandpapa shot them with his gun." "You're mistaken, Jimmy." "Then you must No, for you're here you weren't eaten up?" said wondering Jenny. "No, dear, I wasn't eaten up." "Oh, I know! The wolves didn't come!" cried Jimmy, who remembered one of his grandpapa's stories as having ended in that unhappy way. "Oh, but they did, Jimmy!"
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