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Sophie May
Rebecca Sophia Clarke, who wrote under the pen name Sophie May, was a 19th-century American author born in 1833 and known for her popular children's literature. She created the beloved "Little Prudy" series, which was among the first to realistically depict the everyday lives and emotions of young children. Clarke's work was widely acclaimed for its engaging storytelling and vivid characterizations, making a significant impact on the genre of children's fiction.
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Sophie May
STARTING. One beautiful morning in October the sun came up rejoicing. Dotty Dimple watched it from the window with feelings of peculiar pleasure. "I should think that old sun would wear out and grow rough round the edges. Why not? Last week it was ever so dull; now it is bright. I shouldn't wonder if the angels up there have to scour it once in a while." You perceive that Dotty's...
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Sophie May
THE TALLYHO "I never saw a gold mine in my life; and now I'm going to see one," cried Lucy, skipping along in advance of the others. It was quite a large party; the whole Dunlee family, with the two Sanfords,—Uncle James and Aunt Vi,—making ten in all, counting Maggie, the maid. They had alighted from the cars at a way-station, and were walking along the platform toward the tallyho...
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Sophie May
CHAPTER I. DOTTY'S BABYHOOD. Alice was the youngest of the Parlin family. When Grandma Read called the children into the kitchen, and told them about their new little sister, Susy danced for joy; and Prudy, in her delight, opened the cellar door, and fell down the whole length of the stairs. However, she rolled as softly as a pincushion, and was not seriously hurt. "But you can't go into...
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Sophie May
CHAPTER I. KEEPING SECRETS. We might begin this story of Susy Parlin on a New Year's day, only it is so hard to skip over Christmas. There is such a charm about Christmas! It makes you think at once of a fir tree shining with little candles and sparkling with toys, or of a droll Santa Claus with a pack full of presents, or of a waxen angel called the Christ-child. And it is just as well to date...
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Sophie May
GEORGE WASHINGTON. I believe I will tell you the story of Grandma Parlin's little childhood, as nearly as possible in the way I have heard her tell it herself to Flyaway Clifford. Well, then, Grandma Parlin, her face full of wrinkles, lay in bed under a red and green patchwork quilt, with her day-cap on. That is, the one who was going to be Grandma Parlin some time in the far-off future. She...
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Sophie May
INTRODUCTION. While Prudy was in Indiana visiting the Cliffords, and in the midst of her trials with mosquitoes, she said one day,— “I wouldn’t cry, Aunt ’Ria, only my heart’s breaking. The very next person that ever dies, I wish they’d ask God to please stop sending these awful skeeters. I can’t bear ’em any longer, now, certainly.” There was a look of utter despair on Prudy’s...
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Sophie May
FLAXIE FRIZZLE’S PARTY. “O Auntie Prim, may I have a party? I’ll give you a thou-sand kisses if you’ll lemme have a party!” Auntie Prim looked as if one kiss would be more than she could bear. She was standing by the pantry window that opened upon the garden, rolling out pie-crust, and didn’t like to be disturbed. She was a very good woman, but she never liked to be disturbed. “Party?”...
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Sophie May
THE PARLINS. He did look so funny when they first put him into "pocket-clothes!" His green "breeches" were so tight that they made you think of two pods of marrow-fat peas, only they were topped off with a pair of "rocco" shoes, as red as bell-peppers. He had silver buckles on his shoes, and brass buttons on his green jacket, which was fastened at the back. He had a white collar...
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Sophie May
CHAPTER I. "THE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN." "You is goin' off, Dotty Dimpwil." "Yes, dear, and you must kiss me." "No, not now; you isn't gone yet. You's goin' nex' day after this day." Miss Dimple and Horace exchanged glances, for they had an important secret between them. "Dotty, does you want to hear me crow like Bantie? 'Cause," added...
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Sophie May
A QUEER IDEA. One of Mrs. Allen's bay windows stood open. Between the ivies, tuberoses, and lilies, you caught a glimpse of gilded walls and rare paintings. Better than all, you saw four young faces looking out at a snow-storm; Dotty with eyes like living diamonds, Prudy fair and sweet, Horace lordly and wise; and the little one "with dove's eyes" following every motion of his head,...
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