Little Prudy by Sophie May
Little Prudy by Sophie May
I am going to tell you something about a little girl who was always saying and doing funny things, and very often getting into trouble.
Her name was Prudy Parlin, and she and her sister Susy, three years older, lived in Portland, in the State of Maine, though every summer they went to Willowbrook, to visit their grandmother.
At the very first of our story, Susy was more than six years old, and Prudy was between three and four. Susy could sew quite well for a girl of her age, and had a stint every day. Prudy always thought it very fine to do just as Susy did, so she teased her mother to let her have some patchwork, too, and Mrs. Parlin gave her a few calico pieces, just to keep her little fingers out of mischief.
But when the squares were basted together, she broke needles, pricked her fingers, and made a great fuss; sometimes crying, and wishing there were no such thing as patchwork.
One morning she sat in her rocking-chair, doing what she thought was a "stint." She kept running to her mother with every stitch, saying, "Will that do?" Her mother was very busy, and said, "My little daughter must not come to me." So Prudy sat down near the door, and began to sew with all her might; but soon her little baby sister came along, looking so cunning, that Prudy dropped her needle, and went to hugging her.
"O, little sister," cried she, "I wouldn't have a horse come and eat you up for any thing in the world!"
After this, of course, her mother had to get her another needle, and then thread it for her. She went to sewing again till she pricked her finger, and the sight of the wee drop of blood made her cry.
"O, dear! I wish somebody would pity me!" But her mother was so busy frying doughnuts that she could not stop to talk much; and the next thing she saw of Prudy she was at the farther end of the room, while her patchwork lay on the spice box.
"Prudy, Prudy, what are you up to now?"
"Up to the table," said Prudy. "O, mother, I'm so sorry, but I've broke a crack in the pitcher!"
"What will mamma do with you? You haven't finished your stint-what made you get out of your chair?"
"O, I thought grandma might want me to get her speckles. I thought I would go and find Zip too. See, mamma, he's so tickled to see me he shakes all over-every bit of him!"
"Where's your patchwork?"
"I don't know. You've got a double name, haven't you, doggie? It's Zip Coon, but it isn't a very double name,-is it, mother?"
When Mrs. Parlin had finished her doughnuts, she said, "Pussy, you can't keep still two minutes. Now, if you want to sew this patchwork for grandma's quilt, I'll tell you what I shall do. There's an empty hogshead in the back kitchen, and I'll lift you into that, and you can't climb out. I'll lift you out when your stint is done."
"O, what a funny little house," said Prudy, when she was inside; and as she spoke, her voice startled her-it was so loud and hollow. "I'll talk some more," thought she, "it makes such a queer noise.-'Old Mrs. Hogshead, I thought I'd come and see you, and bring my work. I like your house, ma'am, only I should think you'd want some windows. I s'pose you know who I am, Mrs. Hogshead? My name is Prudy. My mother didn't put me in here because I was a naughty girl, for I haven't done nothing-nor nothing-nor nothing. Do you want to hear some singing?
'O, come, come away,
From labor now reposin';
Let busy Caro, wife of Barrow,
Come, come away!'"
"Prudy, what's the matter?" said mamma, from the next room.
"Didn't you hear somebody singing?" said Prudy; "well, 'twas me."
"O, I was afraid you were crying, my dear."
"Then I'll stop," said the child. "Now, Mrs. Hogshead, you won't hear me singing any more,-it mortifies my mother very much."
So Prudy made her fingers fly, and soon said, "Now, mamma, I've got it done, and I'm ready to be took out!"
Just then her father came into the house. "Prudy's in the hogshead," said Mrs. Parlin. "Won't you please lift her out, father? I've got baby in my arms."
Mr. Parlin peeped into the hogshead. "How in this world did you ever get in here, child?" said he. "I think I'll have to take you out with a pair of tongs."
Prudy laughed.
"Give me your hands," said papa. "Up she comes! Now, come sit on my knee," added he, when they had gone into the parlor, "and tell me how you climbed into that hogshead."
"Mother dropped me in, and I'm going to stay there till I make a bedquilt, only I'm coming out to eat, you know."
Mr. Parlin laughed; but just then the dinner bell rang, and when they went to the table, Prudy was soon so busy with her roasted chicken and custard pie that she forgot all about the patchwork.
* * *
This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.
Anna Green walks in on her boyfriend cheating, only to realize she's not the only witness. A mysterious man stands beside her, watching the same scene unfold. He leans in and murmurs, "Want revenge?" That night, she loses a boyfriend and picks up a husband. What begins as a deal between strangers soon turns into something far more complicated. She thought it was just about benefits. He gave her exclusive love. Now, tangled in a marriage she never expected, Anna wonders who's really in control, especially when the man she married refuses to play by the rules.
Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.
Arabella, a state-trained prodigy, won freedom after seven brutal years. Back home, she found her aunt basking in her late parents' mansion while her twin sister scrounged for scraps. Fury ignited her genius. She gutted the aunt's business overnight and enrolled in her sister's school, crushing the bullies. When cynics sneered at her "plain background," a prestigious family claimed her and the national lab hailed her. Reporters swarmed, influencers swooned, and jealous rivals watched their fortunes crumble. Even Asher-the rumored ruthless magnate-softened, murmuring, "Fixed your mess-now be mine."
Rumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."
Once Alexia was exposed as a fake heiress, her family dumped her and her husband turned his back on her. The world expected her to break-until Waylon, a mysterious tycoon, took her hand. While doubters waited for him to drop her, Alexia showed skill after shocking skill, leaving CEOs gaping. Her ex begged to come back, but she shut him down and met Waylon's gaze instead. "Darling, you can count on me." He brushed her cheek. "Sweetheart, rely on me instead." Recently, international circles reeled from three disasters: her divorce, his marriage, and their unstoppable alliance crushing foes overnight.
After two years of marriage, Kristian dropped a bombshell. "She's back. Let's get divorced. Name your price." Freya didn't argue. She just smiled and made her demands. "I want your most expensive supercar." "Okay." "The villa on the outskirts." "Sure." "And half of the billions we made together." Kristian froze. "Come again?" He thought she was ordinary-but Freya was the genius behind their fortune. And now that she'd gone, he'd do anything to win her back.
© 2018-now CHANGDU (HK) TECHNOLOGY LIMITED
6/F MANULIFE PLACE 348 KWUN TONG ROAD KL
TOP
GOOGLE PLAY