When the singing ceased Malcolm's stern-faced son reached over and shook Robert's hands.

I rose and searched the house. She was not in it. I did not know where to seek her; but, at a venture, I started along the shore.

“The last woman in the world for a farmer’s wife—no strength or get-up about her.”

“Mary, did you ever see anything so funny as Aunt Olivia sitting on ‘Mr. Malcolm MacPherson’s’ knee?”

She had not mentioned his name for years. I thought she had forgotten all about him.

“You can certainly cook. It’s a pity you are such a detestable crank in other respects.”

"The outward, wayward life we see
The hidden springs we may not know."

“That so? Well, I noticed the kerosene demijohn wasn’t very hefty the last time I filled the can. Reckon it needs replenishing.”

"Sara, why don't you like Lige? I'm sure he is a model young man."

“Wrong. He stepped up to Prissy Strong and walked off with her. Cold soup warmed over.”

"Get you gone, I say! And you need not bring my mail here any longer. I want no more of your misshapen body and lying tongue!"

“Oh, Lionel Hezekiah, what have you gone and done now?”

"You are one of the very nicest old folks I know, Stephen. Yes, you are a ripping good fellow!"

“Oh, but I do mind,” said Nancy frankly. “I hate being an old maid.”

"With his whiskers sticking out every which way, and his hair ditto," interjected the graceless Eben.

Naomi drew her own hair over her lips, and kissed it.

I went up to my dearie's room, all pale and shaking. When I went in she came to meet me, like a girl going to meet death.

"Pleas'm, there's a breed girl out on the verandah and she's asking for Miss Blair."

My thoughts on mentoring

A boy’s last days with cervical cancer causes him to lose his memories.