Subject: funny swarthy

From: "Nellie Locke" <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 19 Sep 2006 13:26:18 +0200

The widows darted forward withkindly intended thumps.
I trembled, wondering what I was going to say to him. The widows darted forward withkindly intended thumps.
Every year it sprouted feebler, paler shoots,anaemic, ghastly! I let Meg go tothe big spaces and the job that was hers by right.
Johns girl was shy and talkedto everybody except John.
Each platedslice slid down the table, followed by a dish of brandy-sugar sauce. Lower Westers and Dolls Flatters came to me. Inselling a young pup, the naming was always left to the buyer.
She was a poor lank creature with a great half-healed wound in herside. We stood in the barnyard on the top of thehill.
She preceded him down the stair, down thestreet.
The bone that washer reward did not please Meg much, she let the others take if fromher. He phoned a rush order to a dry-cleaner, also for an express totake a trunk to the boat. Forthe sake of the violin she gave up her daily airing but not herpiano practice.
John and his girl smiled their hopes into each others eyes.
Before I got a word out hesaid, I know, and nodded towards the instruments. Wemust manage without one hand-basin for a day or two.
Dangling hischoice by the scruff, he said, Work waitin, young fella.
We stood in the barnyard on the top of thehill.
At the sound of my voice one end lifted, theother wobbled. Whenever the Bobbies heard my step on the long outside stair, everybody electrified.
The sea and a drift-piled beach were below. It was only pots and pans,not worth the screech.
Orphanage, Salvation Army, both eat, I spose, he said. Idleness irked Meg; her whole beingtwitched to obey; her eyes pleaded, Work! You cant sire a Bobtail kennel by him; twouldnt be fair to thebreed.