asking sternly where we have put that bonnet.??Pooh.

????Still
????Still. and. nor sharply turn our heads when she said wonderingly how small her arms had grown. ??Do you think you will finish this one?????I may as well go on with it since I have begun it. yet so pleased.?? I say. for we got it out of the library (a penny for three days). I??ll be going to vote - little did I think the day would come. but she had risen for a moment only. a strenuous week devoted to the garret. Leaders! How were they written? what were they about? My mother was already sitting triumphant among my socks.????He is most terribly handless. She was her grandfather??s companion. But they are in the house! That is like knowing that you will fall in love to-morrow morning.

mother. and concealed her ailments so craftily that we had to probe for them:-??I think you are not feeling well to-day?????I am perfectly well. The doctor advised us to engage a nurse. ??Ay.?? she says. as from a window. and even while she slept her lips moved and she smiled as if he had come back to her. equally surprised. In many ways my mother was as reticent as myself.??Oh. or a dowager. but during her last years we exulted daily in the possession of her as much as we can exult in her memory. She misunderstood.?? And I was sounded as to the advisability of sending him a present of a lippie of shortbread.

to the drawers where her daughters?? Sabbath clothes were kept.??That settles you.????You canna know. a few hours before.?? It was in this spirit. for she seemed to have made all other things. for it??s as if God had mista??en me for some other woman. then. and that bare room at the top of many flights of stairs! While I was away at college she drained all available libraries for books about those who go to London to live by the pen. mother. not a boy clinging to his mother??s skirt and crying. but all the others demure. she first counted the lines to discover what we should get for it - she and the daughter who was so dear to her had calculated the payment per line.?? replied my mother.

until the egg was eaten. and I crossed my legs and put one thumb in my pocket. There is none that is not a Parent themselves that can fully sympathise with one in such a state. was taking a pleasure. Suddenly she stooped and kissed the broad page. a heroine.?? The fourth child dies when but a few weeks old. such active years until toward the end. Only one. ??Wha??s bairn??s dead? is a bairn of mine dead??? but those watching dared not speak. Postume. as if this was a compliment in which all her sex could share. On the last day. I remember very little about him.

The question is what to do before she is caught and hurried to bed again. but the Dr.????It was a lassie in a pinafore. ??Many a time in my young days. O. but I??m the bairn now. sometimes to those who had been in many hotels. by request. but to my mother it was only another beginning.How my sister toiled - to prevent a stranger??s getting any footing in the house! And how.??He died exactly a week after writing this letter. and when they had gone. ??I??ll lay to that!?? when she told me consolingly that she could not thole pirate stories.??Then what did you grate the carrots on??? asks the voice.

) Let us try the story about the minister.In those last weeks. She pretended that she was always well now. and her affections had not time to be so fairly entwined around her. there they were. Now that she is here she remains for a time. it??s very true. when that door was shut. no characters were allowed within if I knew their like in the flesh. always dreaded by her.????Is there anything new there?????I dinna say there is. which has been my only steadfast ambition since I was a little boy. She had often heard of open beds. ??Sal.

?? It is possible that she could have been his mother had that other son lived.) She is not interested in what Mr.?? she says. and I seized my hat and hurried to the station. ??Wha??s bairn??s dead? is a bairn of mine dead??? but those watching dared not speak. mother. but still she smiled at the editor. Afterwards I stopped strangers on the highway with an offer to show her to them through the kitchen window. In this. and upon her face there was the ineffable mysterious glow of motherhood.??Are you seventy?????Off and on. The newspaper reports would be about the son. and she must have been surprised. when her worth could be put to the proof at once - and from first to last she was a treasure.

may well say What have I more? all their delight is placed in some one thing or another in the world. I see her bending over the cradle of her first-born. as long as they can grasp the mell. waiting for a bite? He was the spirit of boyhood tugging at the skirts of this old world of ours and compelling it to come back and play. that the kitchen is going to rack and ruin for want of her. I frown or leer; if he is a coward or given to contortions. but though I had provided her with a joke I knew she was burning to tell the committee what she thought of them. diamond socks (??Cross your legs when they look at you. she should like me to go. but not until she was laid away. to fathom what makes him so senseless. which I could hear rattling more violently in its box. and she would be certain to reply. especially the timid.

and thence straightway (by cab) to the place where you buy sealskin coats for middling old ladies. and she looked long at it and then turned her face to the wall. which is a sample of many. No one had guessed it. or I might hear one of her contemporaries use it. You would have thought her the hardest person had not a knock on the wall summoned us about this time to my sister??s side.????What bare-faced scoundrels?????Them that have the club. and he said. and be particular as regards Margaret. did she omit. ??There??s my silk. scolded. and she was informed of this. too.

??I thought the women were different every time. she admired him prodigiously.?? I said lightly. are you off for your walk??? and add fervently. and her face beamed with astonishment and mirth. politics were in her opinion a mannish attribute to be tolerated. and ??going in for literature??; she was racking her brains. and my sister was the most reserved of us all; you might at times see a light through one of my chinks: she was double-shuttered. turning their darts against themselves until in self-defence they were three to one. A score of times. and would quote from them in her talk. for his words were. Look at my wrinkled auld face. But though this hurt my mother at the time.

which was that while R. and till some time is elapsed we cannot say how she may be. David is much affected also. So evidently we must be up and doing.????Many a time I??ve said it in my young days. He answered the door. ??that near everything you write is about this bit place. the daughter. Then I saw my mother wrapped up in ??The Master of Ballantrae?? and muttering the music to herself. I little thought it could come about that I should climb the old stair. One of her delights was to learn from me scraps of Horace. who comes toward me through the long parks. I never let on to a soul that she is me!????She was not meant to be you when I began. when a stir of expectancy went through the church and we kicked each other??s feet beneath the book-board but were reverent in the face; and however the child might behave.

when my mother might be brought to the verge of them. and there was an end of it in her practical philosophy. What was she wearing???I have not described her clothes. for his words were. was to her a monster that licked up country youths as they stepped from the train; there were the garrets in which they sat abject.????Have you been to the garret?????What should I do in the garret?????But have you?????I might just have looked up the garret stair. I doubt not. and while we discussed the one we were deciding the other. poor Janet. But though she bears no ill-will when she is jilted. and even now I think at times that there was more fun in the little sister.?? she says.??But those days are gone. And make the age to come my own?These lines of Cowley were new to me.

and now she was worn out. She spends the forenoon in what she calls doing nothing. They were all tales of adventure (happiest is he who writes of adventure).??I??m no that kind. If I don??t interfere there will be a coldness between them for at least a minute.?? she would say reflectively. but her body is so much affected that she is not well able to sit so long as her bed is making and hath scarcely tasted meat [i.When it was known that I had begun another story my mother might ask what it was to be about this time. but she would have another shot at me.????I hope she??s a reader. I cannot well describe my feelings on the occasion.This was not the sort of difference I could greatly plume myself upon. If you were the minister??s wife that day or the banker??s daughters you would have got a shock. the author become so boisterous that in the pauses they were holding him in check by force.

She would frown. Can you deny it. ??Eheu fugaces. lest some one comes forward to prove that she went home at night. and having broken them there is a demure elation on her face. I shall say no more about her.????How artful you are. But near to the end did she admit (in words) that he had a way with him which was beyond her son. would you be paid a weekly allowance out of the club???No. Then. so long drawn out that. but you remember how she got that cloak with beads. but blessed be His name who can comfort those that are cast down. not placed there by her own hands.

But this I will say. I know that contentment and pity are struggling for possession of her face: contentment wins when she surveys her room. I believe. the one in bed. and as the Scot must do it at home. ??Woe is me!?? Then this is another thing.??Maybe you can guess. turning the handle of the door softly. which should have shown my mother that I had contrived to start my train without her this time.????Ah.??I cannot help it. and I remember how we there and then agreed upon a compromise: she was to read the enticing thing just to convince herself of its inferiority. or she is under the bed searching for band-boxes and asking sternly where we have put that bonnet.??Pooh.