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A Bookful of Girls   By: (1853-1916)

Book cover

First Page:

A BOOKFUL OF GIRLS

by

ANNA FULLER

By Anna Fuller

A Literary Courtship A Venetian June Peak and Prairie Pratt Portraits Later Pratt Portraits One of the Pilgrims Katherine Day A Bookful of Girls

The Thunderhead Lady By Anna Fuller and Brian Read

[Illustration: "Suddenly a new sound reached her ear."]

A BOOKFUL OF GIRLS

by

ANNA FULLER

Author of "Pratt Portraits," "Katherine Day," etc.

Illustrated

G. P. Putnam's Sons New York and London

The Knickerbocker Press

Copyright, 1905 by Anna Fuller

The Knickerbocker Press, New York

TO

S. E. R.

THE YOUNGEST OF ALL MY FRIENDS

CONTENTS

PAGE

Blythe Halliday's Voyage 1

Artful Madge 63

The Ideas of Polly 130

Nannie's Theatre Party 196

Olivia's Sun Dial 219

Bagging a Grandfather 242

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

"Suddenly a new sound reached her ear." Frontispiece

"Eleanor's eyes had wandered to the high, broad north window." 80

"Mufty hastily established himself across her shoulder." 142

"All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand." 201

"Please ma'am, will ye gimme a bowkay?" 227

"'Good afternoon, Grandfather,' was the apparition's cheerful greeting." 255

BLYTHE HALLIDAY'S VOYAGE

CHAPTER I

THE CROW'S NEST

"You never told me how you happened to name her Blythe."

The two old friends, Mr. John DeWitt and Mrs. Halliday, were reclining side by side in their steamer chairs, lulled into a quiescent mood by the gentle, scarcely perceptible, motion of the vessel. It was an exertion to speak, and Mrs. Halliday replied evasively, "Do you like the name?"

"For Blythe, yes. But I don't know another girl who could carry it off so well. Tell me how it happened."

Then Blythe's mother reluctantly gathered herself together for a serious effort, and said: "It was the old Scotch nurse who did it. She called her 'a blythe lassie' before she was three days old. We had been hesitating between Lucretia for Charles's mother and Hannah for mine, and we compromised on Blythe!"

Upon which the speaker, allowing her eyes to close definitively, took on the appearance of gentle inanition which characterised nine tenths of her fellow voyagers, ranged side by side in their steamer chairs along the deck.

They had passed the Azores, that lovely May morning, and were headed for Cape St. Vincent, the good old Lorelei lounging along at her easiest gait, the which is also her rapidest. For there is nothing more deceptive than a steamer's behaviour on a calm day when the sea offers no perceptible resistance to the keel.

Here and there an insatiable novel reader held a paper covered volume before his nose, but more often the book had slid to the deck, to be picked up by Gustav, the prince of deck stewards, and carefully tucked in among the wraps of the unconscious owner.

Just now, however, Gustav was enjoying a moment of unaccustomed respite from activity, for his most exacting beneficiaries were not sufficiently awake to demand a service of him. He had administered bouillon and lemonade and cracked ice by the gallon; he had scattered sandwiches and ginger cookies broadcast among them; he had tenderly inquired of the invalids, "'Ow you feel?" and had cheerfully pronounced them, one and all, to be "mush besser"; and now he himself was, for a fleeting moment, the centre of interest in the one tiny eddy of animation on the whole length of the deck... Continue reading book >>




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