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"Nor of her looker he! he!" joined in Furnese with a glance in Joanna's direction. She was talking to Dick Socknersh, who had been to church with the other hands that could be spared from the farm. She asked him if he had liked the sermon, and then told him to get off home quickly and give the tegs their swill. "Reckon he don't know a teg from a tup," said Furnese. "Oh, surelye, Mr.
The generosity of the neighbourhood amounted to five shillings from Prickett of Great Ansdore, and half-crowns from Vine, Furnese, Vennal, and a few others. As Joanna studied it she became possessed of two emotions one was a feeling that since others, including Great Ansdore, had given, she could not in proper pride hold back, the other was a queer savage pity for Mr.
He looked devout, exalted, as he armed his little bride and watched her sister. "Arthur Alce looks pleased enough," said Furnese to Mrs. Bates "reckon he sees he's got the best of the family." "Maybe he's thankful now that Joanna wouldn't take him." Neither of them noticed that the glow was in Alce's eyes chiefly when they rested on Joanna.
Joanna climbed down on the wooden platform, and signalled to the porter-stationmaster to take out her box. "What, you back, Miss Godden!" he said, "we wasn't expecting you." "No, I've come back pretty sudden. Do you know if there's any traps going over Pedlinge way?" "There's Mrs. Furnese come over to fetch a crate of fowls. Maybe she'd give you a lift." "I'll ask her," said Joanna. Mrs.
The mere solid comfort of prosperity was not enough for her she wanted the glitter and glamour of it as well, she wanted her neighbours not only to realize it but to exclaim about it. Thus inspired she asked Prickett, Vine, Furnese and other yeomen and tenants of the Marsh to send their hands, men and maids, to Ansdore, for dancing and supper on New Year's Eve.
A tradesman may on occasion keep company with gentlemen as well as other people; nor is a trading man, if he is a man of sense, unsuitable or unprofitable for a gentleman to converse with, as occasion requires; and you will often find, that not private gentlemen only, but even ministers of state, privy-councillors, members of parliament, and persons of all ranks in the government, find it for their purpose to converse with tradesmen, and are not ashamed to acknowledge, that a tradesman is sometimes qualified to inform them in the most difficult and intricate, as well as the most urgent, affairs of government; and this has been the reason why so many tradesmen have been advanced to honours and dignities above their ordinary rank, as Sir Charles Duncombe, a goldsmith; Sir Henry Furnese, who was originally a retail hosier; Sir Charles Cook, late one of the board of trade, a merchant; Sir Josiah Child, originally a very mean tradesman; the late Mr Lowndes, bred a scrivener; and many others, too many to name.
"I think it's a delicious place," he retorted, teasing her, "I've a mind to bring you here for our honeymoon." "Martin, you'd never I You told me you were taking me to foreign parts, and I've told Mrs. Southland and Mrs. Furnese and Maudie Vine and half a dozen more all about my going to Paris and seeing the sights and hearing French spoken."
Furnese, he äun't a bad looker. Jim Harmer said he wur just about wonderful with the ewes at the shearing." "Maybe but he'd three sway-backed lambs at Rye market on Thursday." "Sway-backs!" "Three. 'Twas a shame." "But Joanna told me he was such a fine, wonderful man with the sheep as he got 'em to market about half as tired and twice as quick as Fuller used to in his day."
From her bedroom window Ellen had seen the Misleham gig turn in at the gate, and had at once recognized the golden blot beside Mrs. Furnese as her sister Joanna. "Hullo, Jo! I never expected you back to-day. Did you send a wire? For if you did, I never got it." "No, I didn't telegraph. Where's Mene Tekel? Tell her to come around with Nan and carry up my box. Mrs.
"She's a mare that's never been präaperly broken in, and she wants a strong man to do it," said Furnese at the Woolpack. He had repeated this celebrated remark so often that it had almost acquired the status of a proverb. For three nights Joanna had been the chief topic of conversation in the Woolpack bar.
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