Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
“Oh Miss Gordon,” cried Betty, her dark brown eyes sparkling with delight, “the flowers can talk to each other across them telfone wires, can’t they?” “Now ef you would jist play ‘Home Sweet Home’ with variations, my dear, we’ll arterwards hev a game of crokinole. Crokinole is sich an amusin’ game.” Going down the stairs his loud unmelodious singing reached the ears of those in the bedroom. When he arrived at the foot, Betty, whose ears were attuned to all acts of outlawry, had reason to believe that Moses performed three successive somersaults..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
🎁 Claim Your Exclusive Rewards at rummy app with 51 bonus!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
🎁 Claim Your Destiny with Red Door Roulette tracker's Lucky Number Predictions
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Diligently as Betty had tended this little garden, it was considered to be a family possession, the child’s own particular treasures lying beyond its fragrant border. Her cherished morning-glories and climbing nasturtiums found a welcome support in the old wooden fence. “Like the lazy coward he is,” Billy tartly interrupted. “’Cause I love you, ’n’ I hope the edges’ll be all pink like my mornin’-glories.” Many times she had seen Mrs. Bennett transplant the garden flowers, had helped; now she put all her lore to use. Patiently she toiled with brittle sticks and pointed stones till the vine was replanted against the rude walls; emptied the dinner pail and trudged back and forth to the river several times for water, to wet the earth above the roots; and patted it down with muddy little hands..
298 people found this
review helpful