Explore "Mary" by Mary Louisa Molesworth on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There was plenty to think of all that day. Mary's little head had never been so full, and before bedtime came she began to feel quite sleepy.
It had been a very happy day, even though everything seemed rather strange. Their father would have liked to stay with them, but he was obliged to go away. Nurse -- I mean Artie's and Mary's own nurse -- was _very_ good to them, and so were cook and all the other servants. The birthday dinner was just what Mary liked -- roast chicken and bread-sauce and little squirly rolls of bacon, and a sponge-cake pudding with strawberry jam. And there was a very nice tea, too; the only pity was that baby could not have any of the good things, because, as nurse explained, she had no teeth.