Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Supper over and dishes hurried out of sight, the floor was once more cleared and the real business of the evening was resumed. “All this turnin’ is good for the liver too you know,” she continued, as her son’s vinegary expression remained unaltered. Mrs. Wopp, after ascertaining that the little boy had received no bodily injury, stood mopping her heated face with the half-mended sock. She ceased operations to survey Betty more carefully..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
“Train? Is she going away?” The small girl’s face grew sorrowful.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
“Dad an’ Mosey don’t look orful happy,” she laughed. “Smile at me, Mosey.”
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
There was room on the slip of paper for only this last item, so numerous had been the demands, during this busy day, on Mr. Wopp’s memory. “Flash and Tom wouldn’t touch meat left on the table alone with them for a day,” Edith said as she replenished the plate, shook and folded away the paper, and called her cats. While Betty, mounted on a bench in the shed, was getting down her watering-can, Job, who during the afternoon had searched diligently but vainly for her, rounded the corner of the garden fence. He noted the open gate and sped towards it. As he entered the garden his eye fell on St. Elmo who stood absorbed and expectant. The turkey, his odd corner-wise gait accentuated by his anxiety of mind, rushed towards the child who at first did not notice his approach. But presently, turning around, St. Elmo beheld an apparently formidable assailant which by the most powerful flight of imagination could not be mistaken for a fairy. All escape by way of the gate was shut off by the intruder. St. Elmo’s plump legs, bare above his low socks, twinkled as he ran wildly towards the foot of the garden. “Well, old Tom’ll have to be cleverer than I ever saw him to pay for that.”.
298 people found this
review helpful