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CHAPTER XV.—MERRY-MAKING IN THE HAY-LOFT. “Oh, no, not a fairy; only Cinderella. Last night I was the poor little cinder girl; now my fairy godmothers, two, have touched me with their wands, needles, and I’m so fine even the Prince didn’t know me.” “I wouldn’t jist say he cant git up, Mrs. Wopp, fer Mrs. Bower sewed the tear up fer him; but the pants bein’ still on him and Joe bein’ shy-like she felt too narvous to make a good job of it an’ I reckon Joe is afeard those few stitches Mrs. Bower put in may not be very secoor.”.
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Mannel Rodd’s round face was very solemn as in two chubby fists he held out a small box containing a number of short knobby specimens. ‘Fix me the apple on his head’.” “Anyhow, Mar, that fust punkin pie Par got was a howlin’ success.” “Come, Jethro, Betty’ll carry her li’l white puppykins, pore li’l footsy’s so sore.”.
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