The Reign of Law; a tale of the Kentucky hemp fields by James Lane Allen
page 168 of 245 (68%)
page 168 of 245 (68%)
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"Miss Gabriella, will you have cream gravy--THIS MORNING?"
"No, thank you!" The oldest boy cocked his eye sideways at his mother, openly announcing that he had won a secret wager. The mother hastily remarked:-- "I thought you might like a little for your breakfast." The baby, noticing the stillness and trouble everywhere, and feeling itself deeply wounded because perfectly innocent, burst into frantic crying. Gabriella could have outcried the baby! She resolved that if they had it for dinner, she would take it though it were the dessert. A moment later she did better. Lifting her plate in both hands, she held it out, knife, fork, and all. "I believe I'll change my mind. It looks SO tempting." "I think you'll find it nice," remarked the housewife, conciliated, but resentful. But every child now determined to watch and see what else she didn't take. They watched in vain: she took everything. So that in a few days they recovered their faith in her and resumed their crawling. Gabriella had never herself realized how many different routes and stations she had in her own body until it had been thus travelled over: feet and ankles; knees; upper joints; trunk line; eastern and western divisions; head terminal. |
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