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“My conscience! How lovely and stylish you look!” The child, accustomed to elegant dress, praised with discriminating eyes. “Then he walked back as slowly and dignifiedly as a minister,—isn’t ‘dignifiedly’ an awkward word? I wonder if it is right?” “Well, Moses,” queried his genial host at the supper table, “did the skating go pretty good to-day?”.
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Conrad
“Glory must git better, nothin’s no fun no more,” blurted Moses. A dull yellow glow from the kerosene lamp, placed by Moses on the bureau, lighted up the figure of Betty reclining on snowy pillows. On one side of her was seated Howard, his arm about the drowsy child. On the side of the bed, squarely seated on one of Mrs. Wopp’s texts worked into the patchwork quilt, was Nell, watching the little pallid face and trying to avoid the eyes of her silent lover. The man faced her abruptly. “The devil he knows!” “But the girls and small fry can’t come in on that. Besides, that little city kid’ll be lonesome if I leave her.”.
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