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Updated: June 25, 2025
You stay with me lest I get lonely; and you play at painting and fancy-work for an excuse. Now, dearies, there must be a change. You must go out. You must take your place in society. I will not have you waste your young lives." "Mother!" Margaret was on her feet, and Katherine had dropped her work. "Mother!" they cried again. "I I shan't even listen," faltered Margaret.
"Thank you jest as much for askin' me, dearies, and maybe some other time I'll get my courage up to it. But now you jest run along an' enjoy yourselves. "An' when you come back," she added, taking both of the soft young hands in her wrinkled one and patting them gently, "you can come up an' tell me all about it."
She pinched his arm, and he started back in terror. "So firm and plump, to make the mouth water. Sell him to me, Phoenix!" "Nonsense," said the Phoenix sharply. "What we desire " At this instant the contents of the saucepan began to hiss and bubble. "Whoops, dearies, the brew is boiling!" shrieked the Banshee, and she hobbled back to the fire to resume her work.
"You are come into deep waters, Martha." "Ay, I am; but there's One on t' water wi' me. I hev his hand, and he's none going to let me sink. And good-night to you, dearies, now; for I want to be alone wi' him. He isn't far off; you can tak' t' word of a sorrowful woman that he lets himsen be found, if nobbut you're i' earnest seeking him."
Mother Morrison came out and helped Brother and Sister to carry their box into the barn, where the sand would not get wet. "You don't want to play with the sandbox all the time, dearies," she said, leading the way back to the house. "If you play too steadily with anything, presently you will find that you are growing tired of it.
You haven't never noticed, Miss Primrose, that he have a kind of a mole long-shaped, and rather big, a little way up his left arm? Have you, now, dearies?" "No, really, Hannah, I've never seen Mr. Noel's arm without his coat-sleeve. How very queerly you are speaking, Hannah." "Not at all, dearie; it's only because I've got the trembles on me.
Ben Craven is good at home. You may measure a man by his home conduct, it's t' right place to draw t' line, you may depend upon it. Tak' a bit o' Christmas loaf, and go your ways back now, dearies, for we'll be heving a storm varry soon." They went merrily out, and about fifty yards away met Mr. North. He also looked very happy, and his lips were moving, as if he was silently singing.
Next morning when all the little Graymouses were eating their breakfast food, Mother Graymouse announced soberly, "My dears, we are going to move." "Out into the country?" cried Silver Ears and Buster at once. "Out into the barn." "Oh, dear!" wailed five little mice. "Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer. "Listen, dearies," argued Mammy patiently. "Our lives are no longer safe in this attic.
"Well, dearies, how have you got on today? There was so much to do, getting the boxes ready to go tomorrow, that I didn't come home to dinner. Has anyone called, Beth? How is your cold, Meg? Jo, you look tired to death. Come and kiss me, baby." While making these maternal inquiries Mrs.
Don't hang on me, please, Sister; it's too hot." "I think you're mean!" stormed Brother. "Mother, can't we go to the movies?" Mother Morrison, who had been upstairs to get her fan, was going with Louise and Grace. She shook her head to Brother's question. "My dearies, of course you can't go at night," she said firmly. "I want you to be good children and go to bed when the clock strikes eight.
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