Mother Carey's Chickens. Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin

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       Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin

      Mother Carey's Chickens

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4057664630964

       I

       II

       III

       IV

       V

       VI

       VII

       VIII

       IX

       X

       XI

       XII

       XIII

       XIV

       XV

       XVI

       XVII

       XVIII

       XIX

       XX

       XXI

       XXII

       XXIII

       XXIV

       XXV

       XXVI

       XXVII

       XXVIII

       XXIX

       XXX

       XXXI

       XXXII

       XXXIII

       XXXIV

       XXXV

      I. MOTHER CAREY HERSELF II. THE CHICKENS III. THE COMMON DENOMINATOR IV. THE BROKEN CIRCLE V. HOW ABOUT JULIA? VI. NANCY'S IDEA VII. "OLD BEASTS INTO NEW" VIII. THE KNIGHT OF BEULAH CASTLE IX. GILBERT'S EMBASSY X. THE CAREYS' FLITTING XI. THE SERVICE ON THE THRESHOLD XII. COUSIN ANN XIII. THE PINK OF PERFECTION XIV. WAYS AND MEANS XV. BELONGING TO BEULAH XVI. THE POST-BAG XVII. JACK OF ALL TRADES XVIII. THE HOUSE OF LORDS XIX. OLD AND NEW XX. THE PAINTED CHAMBER XXI. A FAMILY RHOMBOID XXII. CRADLE GIFTS XXIII. NEARING SHINY WALL XXIV. A LETTER FROM GERMANY XXV. "FOLLOWING THE GLEAM" XXVI. A ZOOLOGICAL FATHER XXVII. THE CAREY HOUSEWARMING XXVIII. "TIBI SPLENDET FOCUS" XXIX. "TH' ACTION FINE" XXX. THE INGLENOOK XXXI. GROOVES OF CHANGE XXXII. DOORS OF DARING XXXIII. MOTHER HAMILTON'S BIRTHDAY. XXXIV. NANCY COMES OUT XXXV. THE CRIMSON RAMBLER

      I

       Table of Contents

      MOTHER CAREY HERSELF

      "By and by there came along a flock of petrels, who are Mother Carey's own chickens. … They flitted along like a flock of swallows, hopping and skipping from wave to wave, lifting their little feet behind them so daintily that Tom fell in love with them at once."

      Nancy stopped reading and laid down the copy of "Water Babies" on the sitting-room table. "No more just now, Peter-bird," she said; "I hear mother coming."

      It was a cold, dreary day in late October, with an east wind and a chill of early winter in the air. The cab stood in front of Captain Carey's house, with a trunk beside the driver and a general air of expectancy on the part of neighbors at the opposite windows.

      Mrs. Carey came down the front stairway followed by Gilbert and

       Kathleen; Gilbert with his mother's small bag and travelling cloak,

       Kathleen with her umbrella; while little Peter flew to the foot of the

       stairs with a small box of sandwiches pressed to his bosom.

      Mrs. Carey did not wear her usual look of sweet serenity, but nothing could wholly mar the gracious dignity of her face and presence.

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