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Showing: 31-40 results of 123

TWO OF THE TYRANTS. "Here, Buck Bradford, black my boots, and be quick about it." That was what Ham Fishley said to me. "Black them yourself!" That was what I said to Ham Fishley. Neither of us was gentlemanly, nor even civil. I shall not apologize for myself, and certainly not for Ham, though he inherited his mean, tyrannical disposition from both his father and his mother. If he had civilly asked me to black his boots, I would have done... more...

Chapter 1—Two Girls Rose sat all alone in the big best parlor, with her little handkerchief laid ready to catch the first tear, for she was thinking of her troubles, and a shower was expected. She had retired to this room as a good place in which to be miserable; for it was dark and still, full of ancient furniture, sombre curtains, and hung all around with portraits of solemn old gentlemen in wigs, severe-nosed ladies in top-heavy caps,... more...

"Of all the joys that brighten suffering earth,What joy is welcom'd like a new-born child."—MRS. NORTON. A merry scene in the nursery at Viamede, where the little Travillas are waiting for their morning half hour with "dear mamma." Mammy coming in smiling and mysterious, her white apron thrown over something held carefully in her arms, bids the children guess what it is. "A new dolly for me?" says Vi; "I'm going to have a birthday... more...

A HOME VIEW The little old kitchen had quieted down from the bustle and confusion of mid-day; and now, with its afternoon manners on, presented a holiday aspect, that as the principal room in the brown house, it was eminently proper it should have. It was just on the edge of the twilight; and the little Peppers, all except Ben, the oldest of the flock, were enjoying a "breathing spell," as their mother called it, which meant some quiet work... more...

A FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA "I wish," said Phronsie slowly, "that you'd come in, little girl." "Can't." The girl at the gate peered through the iron railings, pressing her nose quite flat, to give the sharp, restless, black eyes the best chance. "Please do," begged Phronsie, coming up quite close; "I very much wish you would." "Can't," repeated the girl on the outside. "Cop won't let me." "Who?" asked Phronsie, much puzzled and beginning to look... more...


CHAPTER I. POLLY GIVES MUSIC LESSONS. "Miss Pepper—Miss Pepper!" Polly turned quickly, it was such an anxious little cry. "What? Oh, Amy Loughead." Amy threw herself up against Polly's gown. "Oh, if I may," she began, flushing painfully. "You see my brother is coming to-morrow—I've a letter—so if you will let me." "Let you what?" cried Polly, with a little laugh; "go on, Amy, don't be afraid." "You see it is just this... more...

PHRONSIE'S PIE "Jefferson," said Phronsie, with a grave uplifting of her eyebrows, "I think I will go down into the kitchen and bake a pie; a very little pie, Jefferson." "Bless you, Miss," replied the cook, showing his white teeth in glee, "it is the making of the kitchen when you come it." "Yes, Jefferson," said Phronsie slowly, "I think I will go down make one. It must be very, very full of plums, you know," looking up at him anxiously,... more...

CHAPTER I THE FIRST SNOW-STORM "Where's Mother?" Meg and Bobby Blossom demanded the moment they opened the front door. It was the first question they always asked when they came home from school. Twaddles, their little brother, looked up at them serenely from the sofa cushion on which he sat cross-legged on the floor at the foot of the hall stairs. "Mother and Aunt Polly went uptown," he informed his brother and sister. "They're going to... more...

CHAPTER I. Amongst the crowd of people who were waiting in the Out-Patients' Department of the London Hospital on a certain foggy day toward the latter end of November might have been seen an old cherry-cheeked woman. She had bright blue eyes and firm, kindly lips. She was a little woman, slightly made, and her whole dress and appearance were somewhat old-fashioned. In the first place, she was wonderfully pretty. Her little face looked something... more...

I. "O, Auntee, what is it?" The awed young voice paused at the threshold. It was a sight the little girl had never witnessed before—she had seen Auntee sad at occasional intervals, and a few times had looked upon tears in the usually merry eyes of her beloved chum, but never before had she beheld Auntee sobbing in such an abandonment of grief. There was a very tender tie of love between these two—Alsie, the dear little... more...