Bokelskere.no

Yes, it was real talk, quite different from the loud, imperious "miauw!" with wich Eleanor asked for her milk.

This was the softes, prettiest kind of conversation, little murmurs and chirps and singsongs. Betsy could almost understand it! She could understand it enough to know that it was love talk.

They came forward on tiptoe, making a great deal of noise by stepping on twigs, rustling bushes, crackling gravel under their feet and doing all the other things that make such a noise at night and never do in the daytime.

There was no reason on Earth why they should giggle, which is, of course, the very reason why they did.

A dim notion was growing in her mind that the fact that she had never done a thing was no proof that she couldn't.

Sometimes it seems to me that every time a new piece of machinery comes into the door, some of our wits fly out the window.

She had always thought she was in school to pass from one grade to another. She was startled to get a glimpse of the fact that she was there to learn how to read and write and do arithmetic and generally use her mind so she could take care of herself when she grew up.

It made her feel as if she were learning to skate, and somebody had pulled away the chair she'd been leaing on and said, "Now, go it alone!"