Dad would like it that way, too.

I suppose everybody would say it was flying in the face of tradition, after the Trowbridge place has been white two hundred years." "There comes the mail," called Jean, starting up and running down the drive like a young deer, as the little cart hove in sight.

The carrier waved a newspaper and letter at them.
"Nothin' for you girls, to-day, only a letter for your pa, and weekly newspaper for Hiram.

I'll leave it up at the old place as I go by." He added as a happy afterthought to relieve any possible anxiety on their part, "It's from Delphi, Mich." Kit stood transfixed with wonder, as he passed on up the hill.
"Jean," she said, slowly, "there's something awfully queer about me.

I heard Cousin Roxy say once, I was born with a veil, and ought to be able to prognosticate.