The stage ought to be here, said Miranda, glancing nervously at the tall clock for the twentieth time. I guess everything's done. I've tacked up two thick towels back of her washstand and put a mat under her slop-jar; but children are awful hard on furniture. I expect we sha'n't know this house a year from now.

Maybe you could, I don't know, directly talk to her about it instead of complaining to me for once?

Whether this heavenly thing whereof I treat, / To weeten Mercie, be of Justice part, / Or drawne forth from her by divine extreate […]

I wish you could relent.” “Just love the early morning sunshine, Jer-bear.” His face clouds. “Please explain this name to me. 'Jer-bear'?” “Well, there's this cartoon and there are these bears, right?” “Okay. That explains part of it.”