The heart tragedies of this little girl with no one near to share them, are told with a delicate art, a keen appreciation of the needs of the childish heart and a humorous knowledge of the workings of the childish mind. This author possesses the rare gift of portraying all the grotesque little joys and sorrows and scruples of this very small girl with a pathos that is peculiarly genuine and appealing.
Contents: The hundred and oneth -- The thousand quilt -- The Bible dream -- The cook-book diary -- The bereavement -- The feel doll -- The plummer kind -- Article seven -- Un-plummered.
breathed the child in the foam of the sheet. Then Thomas Jefferson crowed.
"Hundred and one!" Rebecca Mary cried out, clearly, courage born within her at the crucial instant. The Time--the Time--had come. She had taken her last stitch.
"It's over," she panted. "It always was a-coming, and it's come. I knew it would. When it's come, you don't feel quite so scared. I'm glad it's over."
She folded up the great sheet carefully, making all the edges meet with painful precision. It took time. She had left the needle sticking in the unfinished seam--in the hundred-and-oneth stitch-- and close beside it was a tiny dot of red to "keep the place."
"Rebecca! Rebecca Mary!" Aunt Olivia always called like that. If there had been still another name--Rebecca Mary Something Else-- she would have called: "Rebecca! Rebecca Mary! Rebecca Mary Something Else!"
"Yes'm; I'm here."
"Where's 'here'?" sharply.
"HERE--the grape-arbor, I mean."
"Have you got your sheet?"