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“Mar,” he demanded hastily, “more marshed turnips, please.” “There Nancy,” she whispered, “is a sunbeam for breakfast dipped in milk.” “Stop and chin with me just a little, won’t you, marmsey?”.
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Conrad
“I sorter hoped Moses’d take arter Uncle Josh, too,” she said, regretfully. “Oh!” interposed Betty, “but they didn’t throw a sorft stone. I don’t b’lieve in sorft answers no more.” Mrs. Bennett was setting the table. She put down a pile of plates, and a new anxiety came into her careworn face. “A child? I told Mr. Patton I couldn’t take one.” Billy was suddenly overcome with bashfulness when the child, quite composed, came forward to meet him. A bath, a shampoo, and new clothes had transformed her from a tangled, smudged little girl to a lovely miss with a high-bred air foreign to the childish manners Billy understood. He recognized Edith’s gown in the pretty frock mother and daughter had sat late to make over; but the neat ties and hose, all the little things it takes to make a girl look pretty, where had they come from?.
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