Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Hot water, lotions, a mother’s tender hands, best of all, a mother’s comprehending heart,—it is wonderful what cures these can make. In an hour Billy was comparatively at ease. His sore body still ached, and his eyes “felt like red fire on the Fourth,” he said; but the world seemed less dark, and he was glad his mother had not taken him at his word and left him to bear his trouble alone. He threw himself on the bed and wept the bitterest tears he had ever shed in his life, tears of shame. There he lay—hours, he thought—determined to bear his pain and disgrace alone. Yet it was only minutes when he heard his mother in her room, coming! All his treasures, pictures, marbles, mineral specimens, what not, were displayed and explained. And finally came the books, when Billy discovered that she knew most of his favorites, loved them as he did, and could introduce him to new ones that promised delight..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
He stood behind her chair, looking eagerly over her shoulder at the stamp.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
He thrashed the water with the oars, but, in spite of his frantic efforts, the boat was whirled towards what end he could not guess. Just at the brink a sudden cross rip caught the boat and flung it against one of the rocks which the hurrying waters had not been able to wear away. A sickening crash announced the end of the craft that had given such good service. The same jar flung Bob out and a second later he was hurtling through the foam-laden air over the edge of the fall.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Now was Billy’s chance! The place was alone! He waited till each traveller was out of view on the curving road, then climbed up, crossed the dusty wheel tracks, and crept into the brush on the other side. Once hidden he “snooped” silently through the tangled chaparral, coming shortly to the mystery-house, so close to it that he could have looked in at the windows had they been clean enough. “But I don’t like them to do that, Billy. They ought to stay dead till the play is done. When I see them smiling I feel as if—just as I would if you made fun of me when I cried for my mama,—it takes all the true out of the play.” “Yes—go on quick! Here come folks!” “What’ll I sing Betty?”.
298 people found this
review helpful