human
Poor folksy. And Wythie and Rob did need winter coats so sadly! Their old ones were so shabby that Rob said she
gpt
I give you fair warning, Wythie, I'm going to commit a felony, said poor Rob, coming home from a walk and trying to laugh as she tossed her hat on the old
human
as they called the shabby but comfortable couch which had cuddled them all as babies.
gpt
I feel a felony coming on, and it's as drawing as a felon.
human
What form is it going to take, Rob?
gpt
Stealing, said Prue, promptly.
human
I know I wanted to break in Roger's window to-day and take the chocolate eclairs he had put there--they looked perfect dreams, and were as fresh! Or else you want to fib, she added, thoughtfully.
gpt
No, though; you're not tempted as I am. It is simply awful when the girls ask you why you don't do this, or why you don't get that. What am I going to tell them?
human
The truth, that you can't afford it, said Rob, stoutly.
gpt
You might as well, for everybody in Fayre knows everybody else's affairs just a little better than they do themselves, so everybody knows we're poor--poor as pudding-stone rock. But there's one comfort; they all know, too, we're not every-day, pasture pudding-stone, but real old Plymouth Rockers, so mere money doesn't matter much--except to us. I don't suppose--since Mardy isn't here--there's any use in our pretending we don't mind the present pinching state of our finances.
human
Our history lesson yesterday was on the way Alexander Hamilton made banks and money out of nothing but his country's debts, almost before it was a country; I wish I knew how he did it,
gpt
You haven't told us what form you felt your felony would take, Rob, said Oswyth.
human
Where does your moral felon hurt you?
gpt
I feel twinges all over, my dear Anglo-Saxon messenger, said Rob, airily.
human
In my feet when I look at my shoes, in my fingers when I put on my old gloves, or, worse yet, mittens instead of gloves, such as most fair maidens wear, and in my stomach when I try to make it believe an egg, some creamed potatoes, and a rice-pudding are porterhouse steak. But it's reaching a climax on my back. I must have a winter coat, and so must--a muster must--you, my patient Wythie. To-day when I came past the rectory--St. Chad's rectory--the lady rectoress had hung out her three daughters' three new winter coats, fur-trimmed, O my sisters, and beautiful to behold! I am going to break and enter that house in the dark of the moon, and steal those coats.
gpt
I hope if you're caught your punishment will be banishment from Fayre, or I don't see what good your felony will do you--you can never wear the coats, laughed Wythie, and then she sighed.
human
It's hard, Robsy, but bear up, my boy! You believe this is our last hard winter.
gpt
Of course, but it's also the only one we're living through this year, and next year's dinners aren't sustaining--or, at least, you can't help weak moments if you live on them, she said.
human
Here comes our Aunt Azraella. She is stopping in the back yard to examine those two underskirts you sewed that lace on, Wythie. She is estimating its cost and disapproving of it at a high rate of pressure. I wish she would come around the front way, even if it is farther! What with the bleaching grass, the clothes-line, and the pantry window, the back way is dangerous to a critic born.
gpt
Rob, you're a villain!
human
You've time for a little laugh, Oswyth; she's delaying now at the blind I mended--neat job, Mrs. Winslow, ma'am, though I say it who shouldn't, remarked Rob.
gpt
As to being a villain, it's lucky I am, for unless a body's a saint like you--and you may have noticed I'm not-- Aunt Azraella might embitter one unless she were handled with a lightly humorous touch. Eyes right! Shoulder arms! She comes, the Greek--a freak?--she comes!