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Showing: 1-10 results of 26

INTRODUCTION On a topographical map of Literature Nonsense would be represented by a small and sparsely settled country, neglected by the average tourist, but affording keen delight to the few enlightened travellers who sojourn within its borders. It is a field which has been neglected by anthologists and essayists; one of its few serious recognitions being in a certain "Treatise of Figurative Language," which says: "Nonsense; shall we dignify... more...

CHAPTER I KITTY'S DINNER "Kitty-Cat Kitty is going away,Going to Grandma's, all summer to stay.And so all the Maynards will weep and will bawl,Till Kitty-Cat Kitty comes home in the fall." This affecting ditty was being sung with great gusto by King and Marjorie, while Kitty, her mood divided between smiles and tears, was quietly appreciative. The very next day, Kitty was to start for Morristown, to spend the summer with Grandma Sherwood,... more...

CHAPTER I A JOLLY GOOD GAME "What do you say, King, railroad smash-up or shipwreck?" "I say shipwreck, with an awfully desert island." "I say shipwreck, too," said Kitty, "but I don't want to swim ashore." "All right," agreed Marjorie, "shipwreck, then. I'll get the cocoanuts." "Me, too," chimed in Rosy Posy. "Me tumble in the wet water, too!" The speakers in this somewhat enigmatical conversation were the four Maynard children, and they... more...

CHAPTER I A MAY PARTY "Marjorie Maynard's MayCame on a beautiful day;  And Marjorie's Maytime  Is Marjorie's playtime;And that's what I sing and I say!        Hooray!Yes, that's what I sing and I say!" Marjorie was coming downstairs in her own sweet way, which was accomplished by putting her two feet close together, and jumping two steps at a time. It didn't expedite her descent at... more...

CHAPTER I A BOTHERSOME BAG "Mother, are you there?" "Yes, Marjorie; what is it, dear?" "Nothing. I just wanted to know. Is Kitty there?" "No; I'm alone, except for Baby Rosy. Are you bothered?" "Yes, awfully. Please tell me the minute Kitty comes. I want to see her." "Yes, dearie. I wish I could help you." "Oh, I wish you could! You'd be just the one!" This somewhat unintelligible conversation is explained by the fact that while Mrs.... more...


CHAPTER I MARJORIE'S HOME In the Maynards' side yard at Rockwell, a swingful of children was slowly swaying back and forth. The swing was one of those big double wooden affairs that hold four people, so the Maynards just filled it comfortably. It was a lovely soft summer day in the very beginning of June; the kind of day that makes anybody feel happy but a little bit subdued. The kind of day when the sky is so blue, and the air so clear, that... more...

CHAPTER I WISTARIA PORCH "Oh, Little Billee! Come quick, for goodness' sake! The baby's choking!" Patty was in the sun parlour, her arms full of a fluttering bundle of lace and linen, and her blue eyes wide with dismay at her small daughter's facial contortions. "Only with laughter," Bill reassured her after a quick glance at the restless infant. "Give her to me." The baby nestled comfortably in his big, powerful arms, and Patty sat back in... more...

CHAPTER I THE DEBATE In Mrs. Elliott's library at Vernondale a great discussion was going on. It was an evening in early December, and the room was bright with firelight and electric light, and merry with the laughter and talk of people who were trying to decide a great and momentous question. For the benefit of those who are not acquainted with Patty Fairfield and her relatives, it may be well to say that Mrs. Elliott was Patty's Aunt Alice,... more...

SAM BLANEY   "Patty, Patty, pit-a-pat,  Grinning like a Chessy Cat, if you don't stop looking so everlasting cheerful, I'll throw something at you!" "Throw," returned Patty, as her grin perceptibly and purposely widened to the full extent of her scarlet lips. "All right!" and Elise threw a sofa cushion and another and another, following them up with a knitted afghan, a silk slumber robe, and then beginning on a pile of... more...

CHAPTER I HER FATHER'S PLAN "How old are you, Patty?" asked her father, abruptly. "Fourteen, papa,—why?" "My conscience! what a great girl you're getting to be. Stand up and let me look at you." Patty Fairfield, with two twists and a spring, brought herself to her feet, and stood awaiting her father's inspection. He saw a slender, graceful girl, a Southern blonde of the purest type. Her pretty golden hair would gladly have hung in... more...