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Showing 1 - 25 of
125 matches in All Departments
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Jackanapes
Juliana Horatia Ewing, Randolph Caldecott
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R766
Discovery Miles 7 660
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Ships in 12 - 17 working days
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Oh, dear! I wish we weren't going home! "So do I! Can't we stay out
a little while longer?" "Why, Flossie and Freddie Bobbsey!" cried
Nan, the older sister of the two small twins who had spoken. "A few
minutes ago you were in a hurry to get home." "Yes; they said they
were so hungry they couldn't wait to see what Dinah was going to
have for supper," said Bert Bobbsey. "How about that, Freddie?"
"Well, I'm hungry yet," said the little boy, who was sitting beside
his sister Flossie in a boat that was being rowed over the blue
waters of Lake Metoka. "I am hungry, and I want some of Dinah's
pie, but I'd like to stay out longer." "So would I," added Flossie.
"It's so nice on the lake, and maybe to-morrow it will rain."
The little old lady lived over the way, through a green gate that
shut with a click, and up three white steps. Every morning at eight
o'clock the church bell chimed for Morning Prayer-chim! chime!
chim! chime!-and every morning at eight o'clock the little old lady
came down the white steps, and opened the gate with a click, and
went where the bells were calling. About this time also little Ida
would kneel on a chair at her nursery window in the opposite house
to watch the old lady come out and go. The old lady was one of
those people who look always the same. Every morning her cheeks
looked like faded rose-leaves, and her white hair like a
snow-wreath in a garden laughing at the last tea-rose. Every
morning she wore the same black satin bonnet, and the same white
shawl; had delicate gloves on the smallest of hands, and gathered
her skirt daintily up from the smallest of feet.
Storm without and within? So the windmiller might have said, if he
had been in the habit of putting his thoughts into an epigrammatic
form, as a groan from his wife and a growl of thunder broke
simultaneously upon his ear, whilst the rain fell scarcely faster
than her tears. It was far from mending matters that both storms
were equally unexpected. For eight full years the miller's wife had
been the meekest of women. If there was a firm (and yet, as he
flattered himself, a just) husband in all the dreary straggling
district, the miller was that man. And he always did justice to his
wife's good qualities, -at least to her good quality of submission,
-and would, till lately, have upheld her before any one as a model
of domestic obedience. From the day when he brought home his bride,
tall, pretty, and perpetually smiling, to the tall old mill and the
ugly old mother who never smiled at all, there had been but one
will in the household. At any rate, after the old woman's death.
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Miscellanea (Hardcover)
Horatia Ewing Juliana Horatia Ewing, Juliana Horatia Ewing; Edited by 1stworld Library
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R622
Discovery Miles 6 220
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Ships in 12 - 17 working days
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Dorothy to Eleanor, Dearest Eleanor, You have so often reminded me
how rapidly the most startling facts pass from the memory of man,
and I have so often thereupon promised to write down a full account
of that mysterious affair in which I was providentially called upon
to play so prominent a part, that it is with shame I reflect that
the warning has been unheeded and the promise unfulfilled. Do not,
dear friend, accuse my affection, but my engrossing duties and
occupations, for this neglect, and believe that I now take
advantage of my first quiet evening for many months to fulfil your
wish. Betty has just brought me a cup of tea, and I have told the
girl to be within call; for once a heroine is not always a heroine,
dear Nell. I am full of childish terrors, and I assure you it is
with no small mental effort that I bring myself to recall the
terrible events of the year 1813.
Well, father, I don't believe the Browns are a bit better off than
we are; and yet when I spent the day with young Brown, we cooked
all sorts of messes in the afternoon; and he wasted twice as much
rum and brandy and lemons in his trash, as I should want to make
good punch of. He was quite surprised, too, when I told him that
our mince-pies were kept shut up in the larder, and only brought
out at meal-times, and then just one apiece; he said they had
mince-pies always going, and he got one whenever he liked. Old
Brown never blows up about that sort of thing; he likes Adolphus to
enjoy himself in the holidays, particularly at Christmas. The
speaker was a boy-if I may be allowed to use the word in speaking
of an individual whose jackets had for some time past been resigned
to a younger member of his family, and who daily, in the privacy of
his own apartment, examined his soft cheeks by the aid of his
sisters' "back-hair glass."
When the children clamour for a story, my wife says to me, "Tell
them how you bought a flat iron for a farthing." Which I very
gladly do; for three reasons. In the first place, it is about
myself, and so I take an interest in it. Secondly, it is about some
one very dear to me, as will appear hereafter. Thirdly, it is the
only original story in my somewhat limited collection, and I am
naturally rather proud of the favour with which it is invariably
received. I think it was the foolish fancy of my dear wife and
children combined that this most veracious history should be
committed to paper. It was either because-being so unused to
authorship-I had no notion of composition, and was troubled by a
tyro tendency to stray from my subject; or because the part played
by the flat iron, though important, was small; or because I and my
affairs were most chiefly interesting to myself as writer, and my
family as readers; or from a combination of all these reasons
together, that my tale outgrew its first title and we had to add a
second, and call it "Some Passages in the Life of an only Son."
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