Whilomville Stories
ren to their fond parents. "Come on, Jimmie," cried little Cora, "let's
ll. Jimmie and the angel child burst in upon them. "Oh, mamma," shrieked little C
lady's journal and made a nerveless mechanical clutch at it. The painter gripped the arms of his chair and
mering father, and a grim and terrible father. The angel child did not understand anything of it save the voice of calami
uation a voice which he knew well, a sort of colonel's
paces to the fr
w did this happe
d anything which had happened, but he did not k
er frock!" said Mrs
' SHE D
en she arose suddenly, and whirled tragically upon her husband. "Look!" she declaimed. "All-her lovely-hair-all her lovely hair-gone-gone!" The painter was apparently in a fit; his jaw was set, his eyes were glazed, his
lect. "And then you went to this barber's on the hill. Yes. And where did you get the mon
g ruminatively to himself. Suddenly he heard from the house great noises. Doors slammed, women rushed up-stairs and down-stai
staring, not yet having decided that it was his duty to rush forward. Then aro
e matter?"
he gasped, "the
flowing with tears. They were still hand in hand, the ruling passion being strong even in this su
And what was said by angry parents of the mother of such an
helps girls had had very short hair, anyhow, and their parents were not too greatly incensed. In the case of Ella Earl, it was mainly the pathos of the little girl's own grieving; but her mot
NER OF THE HOUS
the mobbing of his wife's cousins, nor was he going to pretend that the spoliation of the Margate
feminine Margates stormed his position as individuals, in pairs, in teams, and en masse. In two days they may have aged him seven years.
t then I'd a darn sight rather see boys look more like boys than like two little wax figgers. An', ye know, the little cusses like it themselves. They never took no stock in all this washin' an' combin' an' fixin' an' goin' to church an' paradin' an' showin' off. They stood it because they were told to. That's all. Of course this h
hat it was only women who could not know that there was finality to most disasters, and that when a thing was fully done, no amount o
RAILWAY
had been given her by her father on her birthday, and with this money the evil had been wrought. Trescott had known it, but he-thoughtful man-had said nothing. For her part, the mother of the angel
ding a shorn and still undaunted lamb. Attached to them was a husband and father, who was plainly bewild