Homespun: Or, Five and Twenty Years AgoHurd and Houghton, 1867 - 346 pagina's |
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Pagina 20
... day in and day out , in all sorts of weather , steadfast to their places and to one another . When the eaves drip , in the middle of the winter forenoons , the old man with the head of silver abandons his post 20 HOMESPUN .
... day in and day out , in all sorts of weather , steadfast to their places and to one another . When the eaves drip , in the middle of the winter forenoons , the old man with the head of silver abandons his post 20 HOMESPUN .
Pagina 21
Or, Five and Twenty Years Ago George Canning Hill. old man with the head of silver abandons his post and the last Saturday's newspaper , to make the accustomed tour of the kitchen offi- ces , the sheds , or the barn , lingering by the ...
Or, Five and Twenty Years Ago George Canning Hill. old man with the head of silver abandons his post and the last Saturday's newspaper , to make the accustomed tour of the kitchen offi- ces , the sheds , or the barn , lingering by the ...
Pagina 28
... head in the pillows for the night , to hear the rain drip from the eaves on the roof of the porch . The sound makes the sense of comfort and cosiness full and complete . If I were sure the world was to be drowned out before morning , it ...
... head in the pillows for the night , to hear the rain drip from the eaves on the roof of the porch . The sound makes the sense of comfort and cosiness full and complete . If I were sure the world was to be drowned out before morning , it ...
Pagina 31
... head a vagabondish wish for a thought- ful ramble over the domestic premises . It is a fatuity with me then to go poking into every odd and curious corner there is ; in my mind , an indefinable association links out - of - the - way ...
... head a vagabondish wish for a thought- ful ramble over the domestic premises . It is a fatuity with me then to go poking into every odd and curious corner there is ; in my mind , an indefinable association links out - of - the - way ...
Pagina 41
... of old ladies ' caps , that tells of the grandmother whose hand planted the purple morning - glories under the windows , and whose head now and then shows itself between the verdurous walls of the bean- vines . GARDEN WORK . 41.
... of old ladies ' caps , that tells of the grandmother whose hand planted the purple morning - glories under the windows , and whose head now and then shows itself between the verdurous walls of the bean- vines . GARDEN WORK . 41.
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Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
afternoon alder allel autumn barn beautiful boys brookside brown houses cattle Chanticleer chilblains choly cial Cock-a-doodle-do comes corner country lawyer cows cranberry crowd deacons delight domestic door England eyes face family party farm farmers feel feet fire floor fresh garden gather geese genuine girls grass green hand hard head heart hearth hickory hill-sides hirsute horse hour keep kitchen live look melan ment milk minister morning mother mullein never night once pass pastures perhaps pleasant pleasure Pleiades Porringer Postmaster poultry rain ready road roof rows season sentiment side silent snow social soon sort soul sound spirit stand stove summer Sunday sweet talk tavern Thanksgiving things thought tion town trees turkeys voice wagons walls warm whole winter woods yard yellow young
Populaire passages
Pagina 174 - I'll be as certain to make him a good dish of meat, as I was to catch him. I'll now lead you to an honest ale-house where we shall find a cleanly room, lavender in the windows, and twenty ballads stuck about the wall...
Pagina 48 - You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own ; What are you when the rose is blown ? So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th...
Pagina 37 - God Almighty first planted a garden; and, indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures; it is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man...
Pagina i - Happy he whom neither wealth nor fashion, Nor the march of the encroaching city, Drives an exile From the hearth of his ancestral homestead. We may build more splendid habitations, Fill our rooms with paintings and with sculptures, But we cannot Buy with gold the old associations ! CATAWBA WINE.
Pagina 171 - No, Sir ; there is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn.
Pagina 37 - Almost all you see," said the good old man, " is the work of my own hands, though I am bordering on eighty years of age. My old woman does the weeding, and John mows the turf and digs for me ; but all the nicer work — the sowing, grafting, budding, transplanting, and the like — I trust to no other hand but my own — so long, at least, as my health will allow me to enjoy so pleasing an occupation ; and, in good sooth, the fruits here taste more sweet, and the flowers have a richer perfume, than...
Pagina 16 - Above the wood which grides and clangs Its leafless ribs and iron horns Together, in the drifts that pass To darken on the rolling brine That breaks the coast. But fetch the wine. Arrange the board and brim the glass; Bring in great logs and let them lie, To make a solid core of heat; Be cheerful-minded, talk and treat Of all things ev'n as he were by; We keep the day.
Pagina 42 - ... of his heart, if such a thing could be done, as of pulling up the currant bushes that are so well rooted in the garden. How the red beet-tops glisten in their long rows, as if some pains-taking hand had varnished them, one by one ! How crowded stand those carrots, boring each its long yellow fingers into the mellowed subsoil ! With what a Dutch-like and dogmatic air the swelling cabbages erect their pulpy heads in the performance of the useful work they are set to do! At the further end of the...
Pagina 186 - Decus et tutamen in armis" There he is in the saddle now ! How proudly that best piece of horse-flesh in the county takes his martial paces across the turf he spurns ! How gayly glitter the epaulettes of his rider — how gracefully waves his plume — how noisily jingle his regimental trappings! He must assuredly feel as if the neck of his steed was
Pagina 85 - Blue-frodked butchers may be seen scouring around the premises then, picking up what the winter may have added or left over. An old turkey slys in, with a winking eye and an open ear, to peck at. stray seeds and keep the run of the capacious establishment ; mayhap, considering if a snug homenest somewhere hereabout may not, after all, be better than to take the chances of weather and foxes under the birches xon the edge of the woodland.