Sophie May

CHAPTER I. Here you sit, Horace, Prudy, Dotty, and Flyaway, all waiting for a story. How shall I begin? I cannot remember the events of my life in right order, so I shall have to tell them as they come into my mind. Let us see. To go back to the long, long summer, when I was a child: There once lived and moved a little try-patience, called Margaret Parlin; no more nor less a personage than myself, your... more...

MAKING CANDY. Grace and Horace Clifford lived in Indiana, and so were called "Hoosiers." Their home, with its charming grounds, was a little way out of town, and from the front windows of the house you could look out on the broad Ohio, a river which would be very beautiful, if its yellow waters were only once settled. As far as the eye could see, the earth was one vast plain, and, in order to... more...

PRUDY'S PATCHWORK I am going to tell you something about a little girl who was always saying and doing funny things, and very often getting into trouble. Her name was Prudy Parlin, and she and her sister Susy, three years older, lived in Portland, in the State of Maine, though every summer they went to Willowbrook, to visit their grandmother. At the very first of our story, Susy was more than six... more...

CHAPTER I. BEGINNING TO REMEMBER. Katie Clifford was a very bright child. She almost knew enough to keep out of fire and water, but not quite. She looked like other little girls, only so wise,—O, so very wise!—that you couldn't tell her any news about the earth, or the sun, moon, and stars, for she knew all about it "byfore." Her hair was soft and flying like corn-silk, and when the... more...

CHAPTER I. THE LETTER.   Katie Clifford sat on the floor, in the sun, feeding her white mice. She had a tea-spoon and a cup of bread and milk in her hands. If she had been their own mother she could not have smiled down on the little creatures more sweetly. "'Cause I spect they's hungry, and that's why I'm goin' to give 'em sumpin' to eat. Shut your moufs and... more...

DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME. CHAPTER I. Dotty Dimple, after a night of pleasant sleep, greeted herself in the morning with a groan. It was as if she had said,— "O, dear! you here again, Dotty? Why didn't you sleep longer?" Prudy noticed the cloud on her sister's face in a moment; she saw she had "waked up wrong." Now I have never told you how peculiarly trying it was to live with... more...

CHAPTER I. DOTTY'S PIN-MONEY Everything was very fresh and beautiful one morning in May, as if God had just made the world. The new grass had begun to grow, and the fields were dotted over with short, golden-topped dandelions. The three Parlin children had come to their grandmother's much earlier in the season than usual; and now on this bright Sabbath morning they were going to church. Dotty... more...

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,... more...

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... more...

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... more...