Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
All was now ready for firing. “She” was to be run by oil. They took her out through the double doors, both swung wide for the first time in many weeks. It was all the boys could do to carry the heavy thing, though they went quite steadily across the vegetable garden, not without some damage to spring lettuce and summer corn, however; but on the steep, uneven slope below, the Fair Ellen came almost to grief. “We’re seven,” came the echo. But ideas came flooding into Betty’s active mind. The desire to fill her box, augmented by an even greater desire to let Moses see she didn’t need his shekels, sent electrical energy to her brain..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
“Mary Ellen Smith; but my mama calls me May Nell; and she says—she says ‘kid’ is vulgar.” The last words were very shy.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
The big hands in spite of the shiny gloves tied the dog fast and very close to the tree. “Now give me that dinky ribbon from your hair,” he commanded, and tied the growling dog’s forefeet together. And May Nell knew the man’s voice was gruffer when Bouncer was helpless. He gazed at her reproachfully from eyes that moved though his head could not. She would never forget those sad eyes that followed her when she was ordered away.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Mrs. Bennett hugged her closer and patted her cheek softly, but let the passion of tears spend itself a little before trying the comfort of words. Then she questioned of the child’s parents, her past life, and the events just preceding the catastrophe in San Francisco, that she herself might better understand how to shield and make happy the little waif that a terrible, heaving earth had cast into her home, her arms. “What is the matter with your hand?” May Nell asked as she drew the work-worn hand down and patted it. “It doesn’t feel like my mama’s. And you have only one ring, a plain one. Are your others in the bank? My mama has ever so many,—diamonds, rubies, and such a big sapphire, perfectly exquisite! And they look elegant on her hand,—she has a perfectly beautiful hand.” “I am given to understand by the best fashion-plates, Mrs. Wopp, that the garment you term an ‘underwaist’ is now designated a casserole.” “Moses, yer manners is shockin’, did you expect to be sarved the best piece when company’s here?”.
298 people found this
review helpful