Frances Hodgson Burnett

Since she had been

If Mary Len­nox

“He’s a con­ceited one,”

dis­grace­fully

She had be­gun to won­der why she had never seemed to be­long to any­one even when her fa­ther and mother had been alive. Other chil­dren seemed to be­long to their fa­thers and moth­ers, but she had never seemed to re­ally be any­one’s lit­tle girl.

A bird with a red breast

The house is lonely, and the park is lonely, and the gar­dens are lonely. So many places seem shut up

A woman as brings up twelve chil­dren learns some­thing be­sides her A B C. Chil­dren’s as good as ’rith­metic to set you findin’ out things.’ ”

I shall get well! I shall get well!” he cried out. “Mary! Dickon! I shall get well! And I shall live for­ever and ever and ever!

I’m go­ing to grow here my­self.”