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The Tinder-Box by Maria Thompson Daviess
page 81 of 179 (45%)
responsibility, girls," she said, in her lovely rich voice that always
melts me to a solution of sympathy whenever she uses it pensively on me.
"Of course, I should be desolate without mine, but what could I do with
them, if I didn't have all of you dear people to help me with them?"

Her wistful dependence had charm.

I looked at the twin with the yellow fuzz on the top of its head that
has hall-marked it as the Kitten in my mind, seated on Sallie's lap with
her head on Sallie's shoulder looking like a baby bud folded against the
full rose, and I couldn't help laughing. Kit had been undressed three
times after her bath this morning while Cousin Martha, Cousin Jasmine
and Mrs. Hargrove argued with each other whether she should or shouldn't
have a scrap of flannel put on over her fat little stomach. Henrietta
finally decided the matter by being impudent and sensible to them all
about the temperature.

"Don't you all 'spose God made the sun some to heat up Kit's stomach?"
she demanded scornfully, as she grabbed the little roly-poly bone of
contention and marched off with her to finish dressing her on the front
porch in the direct rays of her instituted heater.

The household at large at Widegables can never agree on the clothing of
the twins and Henrietta often has to finish their toilets thus, by
force. Aunt Dilsie being reduced by her phthisic to a position that is
almost entirely ornamental, Henrietta's strength of character is the
only thing that has made the existence of the twins bearable to
themselves or other people.

As I have said before, I do wish that some day in the future you will
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