Summary

Various The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. XX. No…

Asplin jumped as if a cannon had been fired off at her ear, and rushed breathlessly to the bedside, stuttering and stammering in amazement—
“Wh—wh—wh—what?”
“Cake!” repeated Peggy shrilly. “I want some! And tea! I want my tea!”
Surely it was a very natural request! What else could you expect from a girl who had been asleep and wakened up feeling hungry? What on earth was there in those commonplace words to make a grown-up woman cry like a baby, and why need everyone in the house rush in and stare at her as if she were a figure in a waxwork?
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. XX. No…

To be true to the core? To let words and actions be the harvest springing from the living grain of holy love in our hearts, watched, watered, cherished, guarded assiduously, lest it should die and our worship become a mere outward thing—straw, in place of true corn, the poor sham which human eyes could not detect, but the worthlessness of which is known to Him who is of purer eyes than to behold evil or to “look upon iniquity”?
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. XX. No…

Lord Darcy, Lady Darcy, Rosalind, the old French maid—they were all there—and, as sure as her name was Peggy Saville, they were all four, handkerchief in hand, mopping their eyes like so many marionettes!
Nobody gave her the cake for which she had asked. Peggy considered it exceedingly rude and ill-bred; but while she was thinking of it she grew tired again, and rolling round into a soft little bundle among the blankets, fell afresh into sweet refreshing slumbers.
Source: Gutenberg

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