United States or British Virgin Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


She had tucked him in luxuriously in his arm-chair by the fire on the first day of his convalescence, and as she gave him his tray, with his beef tea and toast, he saw that she contained anecdotal information of interest which tactful encouragement would cause to flow. "Now that I am well enough to be entertained, Braddle," he said, "tell me what has been happening."

Braddle had done what she could in the matter of expounding her views of the uncertainties of the village attitude, he had listened with stimulating interest. Mrs. Braddle's version on the passing of T. Tembarom stood out picturesquely against the background of the version which was his own the one founded on the singular facts he had shared knowledge of with the chief character in the episode.

"None o' that, yer skulker; I know yer there!" said the voice again. "Do yer want to give me the job o' coming after yer?" After all, Leander reflected, there was the window and a thick half-shutter between them. It might be best not to provoke Mr. Braddle at the outset. He came half out of his hiding-place. "Is that you, Mr. Braddle?" he quavered. "Ah!" said the voice, affirmatively.

"What's the good of jawing at him, Count? That won't satisfy me, it won't. 'Ere, I can't 'old myself off him any longer. I must put a 'ed on him." But the other interposed. "Patience, my good Braddle. No violence. Leave him to me; he's a devilish deep fellow, and deserves all respect." How did you do it? Out with it! How the devil did you do it?"

"No discretion! I should think you hadn't. Nor Potter either, acting the dog in the manger like this. Where'll he find his market for it, eh? What orders have you got? When are you going to get it across?" "I've no notions. I haven't received no directions," said Leander. "A nice sort o' mug you are to be trusted with a job like this," said Braddle.

For there, in the centre of the disordered room, stood not the Count, not Braddle but the statue, the mantle thrown back from her arms, and those arms, and the folds of the marble drapery, spotted here and there with stains of dark crimson! "To feed were best at home." Macbeth.

Braddle saw it as the villagers saw it excited, curious, secretly hopeful of undue lavishness from "a chap as had nivver had brass before an' wants to chuck it away for brag's sake," or somewhat alarmed at the possible neglecting of customs and privileges by a person ignorant of memorial benefactions.

"I told you Potter was after that marble, and you wouldn't have it, Count," growled Braddle. "Now you're satisfied." The Count comprised Potter and his lot in a new and original malediction by way of answer, and then said to Leander, "Did Potter tell you to let that Venus stand where all the world might see it?" "I had no discretion," said the hairdresser. "I'm not responsible, indeed, gents."

"Well, to oblige you, whatever it costs me, I will round on Potter." "Take care you stick to that," said Braddle. "The next pint, Count, is 'ow we're to get her." "Come in and take her away now," said Leander, eagerly. "She'll be quiet. I I mean the house'll be quiet now. You'll be very welcome, I assure you. I won't interfere." "You're a bright chap to go in for a purfession like ours," said Mr.

Stark moorland life had not encouraged humor in the Brontes, and village patronage had not roused in Miss Mitford a sense of ironic contrasts. Yes, Jane Austen would have done it best. That the story should be related by Mrs. Braddle gave it extraordinary flavor. No man or woman of his own class could have given such a recounting, or revealed so many facets of this jewel of entertainment.