United States or Panama ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
There just creep under the couch-chair, lad. They'll not tarry so long. Fayther'll be off to the `George' as soon as he's had his tea." So the poor boy crept under the couch, the hanging drapery effectually hiding him from the view of any who might come in. Another moment, and Will Jones the father entered the house with half-a-dozen companions.
But it so happened as Will Jones's lad John were under the couch-chair, hiding away from his fayther, all the time they was arranging their plans, and he heard all as they was saying. So Will Jones's wife Martha sends the lad to tell our Betty when the men was gone. She'd promised not to say anything herself, but that didn't bind the lad, so he came and told. What were we to do?
A couch-chair extends under the window the whole length, but one of its arms is gone, and the stump which supported it thrusts up its ragged top to wound any hand that may incautiously rest there; the couch itself is but a tumbled mass of rags and straw.
"Well, John, I promised I wouldn't let out a word of it myself; but I didn't say that you shouldn't." "Eh, mother, if I split, fayther'll break every bone in my body." "But how's your fayther to know anything about it? He knows nothing of your being under the couch-chair. I can swear as I haven't opened my lips to any one out of the house, nor to any one as has come into it.
"Well, here's a go," whispered Jones; "the bird's flown, and a pretty tale we shall have to tell." "Stop," said Ben, in an under-voice, and motioning the others to keep quiet, "maybe he's sleeping on the couch-chair in the house." "I'll go and see," said Jones. Cautiously he descended the stairs, terrified at every creak they made under his weight. Did he hear anything?
Then, what an air of comfort there was about the whole place. The arms and back of the couch-chair shone like mahogany, the couch itself was plump and smooth, like a living thing in good condition. The walls were a bright, lively blue, but there was not very much to be seen of them, so covered were they with all sorts of family-belongings and treasures.
"Take off your wraps. There now! draw up the ottoman; so long as you have a spine, rely upon it. Never lounge if you can help it." Lynda drew the low, velvet-covered stool near the couch-chair; the hound raised his sharp, beautiful head and nestled against her knee. Truedale watched it animals never came to him unless commanded why did they go to Lynda?
Word Of The Day