Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
How the missionary box would jingle! How the heathen would sing for joy! While on the Wopp table carrot pudding could become a diurnal felicity! “No; but you can ask concessions, and buy stocks, and keep hotel in the shack, an’ board us men. Make more money ’n we do. They always do, you know; not the fellers that works, but the smart ones that work them. I’m hungry enough to eat May Nell right now!” He snapped his teeth together with a ferocious grin as the little girl came near; and she laughed back at him more joyously than her mother would have believed possible could she have known; for this wholesome out-of-door frolic was a boon to the child, white from life within brick walls. His words had a new ring, and his mother was wise enough to respect the young independence in them. “What brought you to this decision, Billy?”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
“Why, you see,” Billy hesitated, for he was modest, “sister has a class of us heathen boys, and—well, you see, it’s this way; sister says,—she’s partial, you know,—she says I have influence; if I don’t giggle the others won’t, and she gets on O. K.”I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
What really ailed Moses was the prospect of bolstering up the pipes again.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
“Will you please play it fer us then, it is so touchin’. You will find the music on the organ.” “Billy Boy, it’s fine! It’s splendid! But it’s so big I’m afraid Buzz will be scared.” “I wonder who’ll buy this here quilt,” speculated Mrs. Wopp, as she bent over her task, “there’s shorely a great sight o’ work on it. As fer me, I aint got time to do much fancy work an’ I’d never git round to a job like this fer myself.” “Moses!” called husband and wife, simultaneously. Mrs. Wopp’s voice spanned an interval of about a dozen semi-tones, and as it always grew in volume in direct ratio to the emergency of the duty to be imposed, the last syllable of her son’s name fell on that wretched boy’s ear like a clap of thunder. Mr. Wopp’s accents remained on nearly all occasions at the same even degree of meekness. Nature had not given him the temperament to indulge in crescendos or double fortes..
298 people found this
review helpful