Word: mrs
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1940-1949
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...luck, you know," said Mr. Hawkings, a trim man in grey flannels. "Yes," agreed Mrs. Hawkings, "things were a bit tight last night. For the first time in my life I slept with my shoes...
...called "The Limit," because it is the last house on Shanghai's southwestern boundary) at once became a front-line position. Nationalist soldiers pulled down fences all around, dug trenches through neighboring gardens, put neighboring houses to the torch. When one group of soldiers started to chop down Mrs. Hawkings' trees, she told them: "We've lived in this house for 27 years and brought up five daughters here, and we can't have this sort of thing going on." The soldiers, overwhelmed by her bearing and her perfect Chinese, obediently put away their hatchets...
...managed to stop them from building a gun post in the middle of the bowling green, by showing them a much better strategic position," said Mrs. Hawkings, "and I saved my bed of anchusas and the bushes of weigela and nemophila from being dug up for a trench, by showing them how to take better shelter down by the lily pond. I got them so sympathetic for my garden that they even held the flowers apart so they could thread barbed wire without breaking the blooms...
...front of the house a group of soldiers were wolfing down bowls of rice. When Mrs. Hawkings appeared in her cardigan sweater and plaid skirt, the soldiers stopped eating and gazed at her with awe and affection. One young soldier started singing China's national anthem. "They're nice boys, really," said the mistress of The Limit...
...Last Outpost." Later, she and her husband pointed out the room where they would hole up if the going really got rough-the pantry. "The bathroom is overhead," explained Mrs. Hawkings, "and that has a thick cement floor. Between the outside walls of the house and the pantry are two thick inner walls." Into the hallway by the pantry, Hawkings had already moved a mattress, four gunnysacks of rice and a row of tin trunks...