LITTLE WOMEN - Complete Edition: Little Women, Good Wives, Little Men & Jo's Boys. Луиза Мэй Олкотт

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СКАЧАТЬ turning to the bewildered crowd, Ferdinand added, with

       a gay smile of triumph, “To you, my gallant friends, I

       can only wish that your wooing may prosper as mine has

       done, and that you may all win as fair a bride as I have

       by this masked marriage.”

       S. PICKWICK

      Why is the P. C. like the Tower of Babel?

       It is full of unruly members.

      ________

      THE HISTORY OF A SQUASH

      Once upon a time a farmer planted a little seed

       in his garden, and after a while it sprouted and became

       a vine and bore many squashes. One day in October,

       when they were ripe, he picked one and took it

       to market. A gorcerman bought and put it in his shop.

       That same morning, a little girl in a brown hat

       and blue dress, with a round face and snub nose, went

       and bought it for her mother. She lugged it home, cut

       it up, and boiled it in the big pot, mashed some of it

       with salt and butter, for dinner. And to the rest she added

       a pint of milk, two eggs, four spoons of sugar, nutmeg,

       and some crackers, put it in a deep dish, and baked it

       till it was brown and nice, and next day it was eaten

       by a family named March.

       T. TUPMAN

      ________

      Mr. Pickwick, Sir:-

       I address you upon the subject of sin the sinner

       I mean is a man named Winkle who makes trouble in his

       club by laughing and sometimes won’t write his piece in

       this fine paper I hope you will pardon his badness and

       let him send a French fable because he can’t write out

       of his head as he has so many lessons to do and no brains

       in future I will try to take time by the fetlock and

       prepare some work which will be all commy la fo that

       means all right I am in haste as it is nearly school

       time.

       Yours respectably,

       N. WINKLE

      [The above is a manly and handsome aknowledgment of past

       misdemeanors. If our young friend studied punctuation, it

       would be well.]

      ________

      A SAD ACCIDENT

      On Friday last, we were startled by a violent shock

       in our basement, followed by cries of distress.

       On rushing in a body to the cellar, we discovered our beloved

       President prostrate upon the floor, having tripped and

       fallen while getting wood for domestic purposes. A perfect

       scene of ruin met our eyes, for in his fall Mr. Pickwick

       had plunged his head and shoulders into a tub of water,

       upset a keg of soft soap upon his manly form, and torn

       his garments badly. On being removed from this perilous

       situation, it was discovered that he had suffered

       no injury but several bruises, and we are happy to add,

       is now doing well.

       ED.

      ________

      THE PUBLIC BEREAVEMENT

      It is our painful duty to record the sudden and

       mysterious disappearance of our cherished friend, Mrs.

       Snowball Pat Paw. This lovely and beloved cat was the

       pet of a large circle of warm and admiring friends; for

       her beauty attracted all eyes, her graces and virtues

       endeared her to all hearts, and her loss is deeply felt

       by the whole community.

      When last seen, she was sitting at the gate, watching

       the butcher’s cart, and it is feared that some villain,

       tempted by her charms, basely stole her. Weeks have passed,

       but no trace of her has been discovered, and we relinquish

       all hope, tie a black ribbon to her basket, set aside her

       dish, and weep for her as one lost to us forever.

      ________

      A sympathizing friend sends the following gem:

      A LAMENT

       (FOR S. B. PAT PAW)

      We mourn the loss of our little pet,

       And sigh o’er her hapless fate,

       For never more by the fire she’ll sit,

       Nor play by the old green gate.

      The little grave where her infant sleeps

       Is ‘neath the chestnut tree.

       But o’er her grave we may not weep,

       We know not where it may be.

      Her empty bed, her idle ball,

       Will never see her more;

       No gentle tap, no loving purr

       Is heard at the parlor door.

      Another cat comes after her mice,

       A cat with a dirty face,

       But she does not hunt as our darling did,

       СКАЧАТЬ