"How can you get twelve feet into eight feet, no matter how good you are in arithmetic?" asked Happie Scollard, a trifle impatiently. "You'd have to be pretty poor in arithmetic to try it. Even home-taught children ought to know something about putting greater into lesser," observed Bob. "Would you mind telling us what you're driving at, Keren-happuch, my dear?" Happie groaned. "This room is quite squeedged enough with us six Scollards in it, without crowding in my dreadful name, Robert, my dear," she retorted. "What I was driving at was a harmless little humorous joke. This kitchen is eight...
"How can you get twelve feet into eight feet, no matter how good you are in arithmetic?" asked Happie Scollard, a trifle impatiently. "You'd have to b...
"NO pink for me, please; I want that beautiful shimmering green, made up over shining white silk. It will make my glossy brown eyes and hair look like a ripe chestnut among its green leaves." "Oh, Bab, such a glistening sentence 'Shimmering green, ' 'shining white, ' 'glossy hair'-you didn't mean glossy eyes, I hope Besides, chestnuts don't show among green leaves; they stay in their burs till they drop off the tree." "Now, Phyllis, what is the use of spoiling a poetical metaphor-figure-what do you call it? Which do you like best? Have you made up your mind, Jessamy?" "I want all white;...
"NO pink for me, please; I want that beautiful shimmering green, made up over shining white silk. It will make my glossy brown eyes and hair look like...
"I am going to cut that grass-try to cut it, I mean-before I'm an hour older," said Roberta Grey, drawing on an old pair of her father's dog-skin gloves with a do-or-die-in-the-attempt air that was at once inspiring and convincing. "This whole place looks like an illustrated edition of 'How Plants Grow'-Grey. We've got to cut the grass or put up a sign: To Find the House Walk Northward Through the Prairie. Signed, Sylvester Grey. Will you help, Wythie and Prue?" Oswyth, the eldest daughter, a year the senior of sixteen-year-old Roberta, looked up with her pleasant smile. "Help walk northward...
"I am going to cut that grass-try to cut it, I mean-before I'm an hour older," said Roberta Grey, drawing on an old pair of her father's dog-skin glov...
Again a story of the Six Girls of whom we are fond, is dedicated to you. It will tell you what delightful things grew out of their Tea Room, and how the "Patty-Pans flat" was filled with happiness till it overflowed into a larger home. It proves-what you know-that the best times are not always great times. Our Six Girls-and the boys-are busy young folk, and the good things that have come to them they won by courage, perseverance and the merry hearts that are part of innocence and sweetness. More than all, our Six Girls-and one boy-love one another so dearly that they cannot help being...
Again a story of the Six Girls of whom we are fond, is dedicated to you. It will tell you what delightful things grew out of their Tea Room, and how t...
She was sitting before the ancient mahogany dressing-table in her-and Wythie's-room, unblushingly regarding herself in the mirror, while the fingers of both hands, supporting her brilliant face, experimented with changes in it by pushing up the delicate eyebrows into quite a celestial angle. Frances Silsby, from the rocking-chair by the window, and Wythie on the foot of the bed, laughed. "I know I'm young by the record in the Bible-and by the way I feel," said Frances. "And I know I'm a lady by the company I keep, since 'birds of a feather, ' and so forth." Frances made a deep salaam almost...
She was sitting before the ancient mahogany dressing-table in her-and Wythie's-room, unblushingly regarding herself in the mirror, while the fingers o...