Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"You are sure?"—doubtfully. They walk up two steps, and enter a small hall, and then he follows her into a room opening off it, in which breakfast lies prepared. "Lies! Oh, fie!" says Doatie. "Who tells lies? Nobody, except the naughty little boys in tracts, and they always break their legs off apple-trees, or else get drowned on a Sunday morning. Now, we are not drowned, and our legs are uninjured. No, a lie is a horrid thing,—so low, and in such wretched taste. But there are little social fibs that may be uttered,—little taradiddles,—that do no harm to anybody, and that nobody believes in, but all pretend to, just for the sake of politeness.".
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
🃏 Discover the magic of Akbar & Birbal stories at your fingertips! Engage in thrilling games inspired by these timeless tales at akbar & birbal storles. From traditional favorites to modern classics, we have something for everyone. Join the fun today!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
🌟 Discover the Joy of Quizzing at Big Fat Quiz of Everything 2023!
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Mīka´pi stretched out his hand and put its palm on the person's breast and moved his hand quickly from side to side, and then touched the person with the point of his finger, which in sign language means, "Who are you?" The stranger took Mīka´pi's hand and made him feel of his own right hand. The thumb and fingers were closed except the forefinger, which was extended. When Mīka´pi's hand was on the stranger's hand the person moved his hand forward with a zigzag motion, meaning Snake. "Very good, miss; I'm going," says the woman, and with a last touch to the butter she covers it over with a clean wet cloth and moves to the yard door. The two chickens on the threshold, who have retreated and advanced a thousand times, now retire finally with an angry "cluck-cluck," and once more silence reigns. Seeing brandy, on a table near, she pours a little into a glass with a shaking hand, and passing her arm beneath his neck, holds it to his parched lips. "A cloud?" says Mona. And I think in her inmost heart she is rather glad than otherwise that her lover's people are not on the top rung of the ladder..
298 people found this
review helpful