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Word: mothers (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1870-1879
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Usage:

...they lifted her in beside me, and I put my arm round her, and started the mare. I could not cluck to her, my mouth was so dry. And I felt the cold wind on my face, and I heard the poor mother sob as I put the mare to her best...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: CHRISTMAS WAITS. | 12/20/1877 | See Source »

...mare and I, my thoughts turned on my future companion. They could not give me one of the boys. Either of my sisters? Well, perhaps. Mrs. Earl? Not if I knew it. I'm afraid she would be dangerous with a lone man. Miss Earl? If - But would her mother let her? But I kept my courage up, and indulged in castles in Spain of a mild type...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: CHRISTMAS WAITS. | 12/20/1877 | See Source »

Have you never noticed how ingeniously a mother will hide the defects of her son? That Augustus is as stupid as an owl is apparent to everybody; but his mother is continually prating about her dear boy's love of study. Harry is a bon-vivant at Harvard; he is continually giving dinners; he has a little box at the Globe, and a big bill at Ober's; but you shall hear the fond mother say, "Poor Harry is applying himself too much; he has come home quite pale, and we are afraid of a brain-fever...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: DOMUM. | 12/20/1877 | See Source »

...Bacchus; and then he will wake the midnight echoes of the quiet old town, to show them "how we men do it at the University." But don't imagine that even his happiness is complete. He is worrying to-day about the best way of breaking to his mother the fact that he has learned to smoke...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: DOMUM. | 12/20/1877 | See Source »

DEARE JNO, - I promised to send you from time to time an epistle wherewith you might be assured that I was still of this world, and still devoted to you, so I take this opportunitie of enclosing these lines to you in a cover to my dear mother. Harvard College, you must know, is situate in a lonely plain, not far from y towne of Boston. There is one principal building in which we all sleep, partake of nourishment, and abyde, numbering twenty-seven souls. It is a large and fair brick structure two storeys high...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: A FRESHMAN LETTER. | 11/9/1877 | See Source »

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