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Three Little Women's Success: A Story for Girls

Chapter 4 The Busy Bees.

Word Count: 2833    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

cried Constance, merrily, as she entered the candy kitchen. M

ver her shoulder as she stood before the gas range. Her arms were bared to the elbows, for the waist she wore was made with sho

e tell you. She has just heaps and loads to accomplish before she can arriv

dy-maker lifted a spoonful of the boiling syrup and let it run back into the kettle, the last drop fallin

e'll pour it off," answered Constance, her practiced eye quick t

't mean that! I mean you're-" and the girl paused in confusion, her f

r eyes in place of the pained one which for a little instant had crept into them

, contritely, as she lifted the kettle from the range, and

ead doubtfully the while. Constance did not look at her, but, arming herself with a large knife, guided the candy into the little grooves which would shape it as it w

with knife suspended over the fast chilling ca

feel just like a file drawn over your teeth? If you only knew how

knife to a card, one of several hanging upon the wall of the kitchen. The one toward

"If I didn't forget all the time I'd never have to forget at all, and if that is

ugh the open door greeted Mrs. Carr

Honey; I know it must be chilled enough and it does smell so good. Mary, you are a master hand. M-mm-m! A veritable lump of delight, though still

. How does it chill so rapidly? Quick! Mary, you cut at that end while I work at thi

. Presently all was cut, and as it lay cooling they set to work upon the next batch to be made, Mary cleaning the fudge kettle while Constance got out another for the walnut creams. Each kind of candy had its special cooking utensils, a

eful; may I prove it

. That helps," answered Mar

you? You busy body. Why can't you let us do all the work and so win all the glory? I suspect you're a terribly selfish mother; yes, I do. You needn't protest. You won't

ghed Mrs. Carruth, kissing the soft cheek so close to h

s right off," cried Constance, whirling around to pee

a derisive pucker, and looked into th

, what then?

wrap. If anything will wheedle you into being good, letting you get busy will," ended Constance, turning to th

she will come to the rescue. Oh, you can't do as you used to. Whyfor do I make candy by the pounds innumerable? Whyfor do I send it to tickle many palates? Whyfor do I take in dollars galore? All, all to kee

boxes and the dainty ribbons with which to tie them. Then seating herself beside her mother, who was alr

sweet, lovable face. Mrs. Carruth laughed a low, little lau

mmerings, sort of seismic rumblings, so to

a busy hive-" began Mrs.

ain," Constance called into the kitchen, where bri

ur rescue?" was the

g in your bonnet now. A brand new fall bonnet, too! It's outrageous to so misuse it after all the trouble I've been put to to induce you to indulge in it at all, and not sneak off to Madame Elsie with a lot of old finery to be made over into a

wing fat. That scores me one, and entitles me to have my little say-so and hold my own against this con

hrewdness the combined force can bring to bear upo

s do it then," was

ght straight into my eyes, and while you confess your desires to transgress you shall keep up a sub-conscious train of thought along this line: 'This is my second daughter, Constance Blairsdale Carruth. She is past nineteen years of age. She weighs one hundred and eighteen pounds. She still possesses all her faculties unimpaired. Is endowed (I hope!) with the average degree of intelligence and common sense. She has never been ill a day in her life (whistle and knock wood when you think that), and she is taking mighty good c

er mother to clasp her arms about her waist and look into the face she loved best on e

her hands, bent toward it, rested her lips

ar more than you have said, and that is exactly the reason I wish to contribute my

l what you are doing for us girls? How you are surrounding us with an atmosphere so beautiful, so exceptional in these days of hurry and bustle that its influence must bide with us all our days and remain a dear memory all our lives? We may leave it sooner or later, other duties may call us away, but nothing, nothing can ever deprive us of all this-" Constance raised one arm to sweep it comprehensively over the room in which they sat and all-embracingly beyond. "So please let all rest as it is. Let Nonnie work a

my little plan?" was her

I'll l

there is such a field for embroidery and other ki

r home, not other people's. I'll tell you what you may do, all against the coming climax, for it is coming

ruth, reproachfully, the softes

ps her on board the smoking-car instead of the Pullman, and neither of them knows the difference-well. You just wait till spring, my lady. It is a case of 'I smell a mouse, I feel

nnie, this

ffect me if I ever succumb? But take my advice, get busy, Mumsey, and, dear, remember this-" Swiftly the tone changed from the jesting one to the tenderest as the girl rested her head upon her mother's shoulder: "You represent home to us girls. Without you it would be the harp without its strings, th

tiful grac

he places

n (this one)

r of home

and I've scolded her as much as I dare," and, with a tender kiss

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