Louisa May Alcott

I’ve been pegging away at mathematics till my head is in a muddle, and I’m going to freshen my wits by a brisk turn.

She went to get her tarts . . . but some one had stolen all the fruit out of them by lifting up the upper crust.

Such a clatter as the little spoon made, and such a beating as the batter got, it quite foamed, I assure you; and when Daisy poured some on to the griddle, it rose like magic into a puffy flapjack that made Demi's mouth water.

“ […] there’s old Buttercup in the big meadow, ride at her, Tom, and see her run,” proposed Dan, bent on mischief. “No, you mustn't,” began Demi, who was learning to distrust Dan’s propositions. “Why not, little fuss-button?” demanded Dan.

Then the dirty-handed society went off the wash, followed by the Professor, trying to calm the anxiety of Rob, who had been told by Tommy that all water was full of invisible pollywogs.

[…] when Mrs. Giddy-gaddy came to take out her clothes, deep green stains appeared on every thing, for she had forgotten the green silk lining of a certain cape, and its color had soaked nicely into the pink and blue gowns, the little chemises, and even the best ruffled petticoat. […] “Lay them on the grass to bleach,” said Daisy, with an air of experience.