United States or Vietnam ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Take the child home," he said. Then with timid, hesitant steps, he approached Mrs. Grumble's bed. "You've been a long time coming," she said. "I'm tired." "I'm here now," replied Mr. Jeminy; "I am not going away any more." "No," said Mrs. Grumble, "you'd better stay home and attend to things. I won't be here much longer." Mr. Jeminy wanted to say "nonsense," but he was unable to speak.
But Thomas would not look at Elsie; not until Anna had told him her wish. "Wish I may, wish I might . . ." "Have the wish . . ." But she would only whisper it in his ear. Miles away, in Mrs. Wicket's cottage, Mr. Jeminy sat dreaming, and rocking up and down. He had come to keep an eye on Juliet, so that Mrs. Wicket could sit with Mrs. Tomkins, who was feeling poorly.
As he sat down to supper with the Bades, he bowed his head, and offered up a grace, with all his heart: "Abide, O Lord, in this house; and be present at the breaking of bread, in love and in kindness. Amen." During the meal, Aaron Bade asked Mr. Jeminy many questions, to discover what the old man hoped to do. "I suppose," he said, "you've come a good distance." "Yes," said Mr.
"There's this much about it," said Miss Beal; "no one else will have him now." Mrs. Grumble agreed with her. She disliked Mrs. Wicket because Mr. Jeminy liked her. He pitied the young woman who had had the misfortune to marry a thief, and he forgave her for wanting to be happy, because it did not seem to him that to have been the wife of a good-for-nothing was much to settle down on.
He slapped the reins bitterly across his horse's back. "What's the good of that?" he asked, in turn. "Perhaps," she said faintly, "there isn't any. Oh, I don't know . . . what's the difference?" And so they rode on in silence, with pale cheeks and strange thoughts. Mr. Jeminy liked to call on Mrs.
Jeminy," said Mrs. Ploughman, "was a queer man, and no mistake. I remember the day he stepped in to pay me a call. Mrs. Crabbe was with me. 'Mrs. Ploughman, he said, 'and you, Mrs. Crabbe, we're leaving a lot of trouble behind us. Fancy that, Mrs. Tomkins as though I'd up and go any minute. 'Mr. Jeminy, I said, 'I'm not afraid to die. When my time comes, I'll go joyfully."
"I did what I could." Her mind began to wander; she spoke some words to herself. "You, God," said Mr. Jeminy aloud, "this is your doing. Then come and be present; receive the forgiveness of this good woman, to whom you gave, in this life, poverty and sacrifice." "Please," whispered Mrs. Grumble, "speak of God with more respect." They were her last words; it was the end.
Frye, "but prices are very high now." And he moved away to register the sale. Farmer Barly, who was a member of the school board, cleared his throat, and blew on his nose. "Hem," he remarked. "Good-day." "Good-day," said Mr. Jeminy politely, and went out of the store with his pencil. Left to themselves, Mr. Frye and Mr. Barly began to discuss him. "Jeminy is growing old," said Mr.
"We must certainly have a few hills of squash," said Mrs. Grumble firmly. "Oh," said Mr. Jeminy, "squash. . . ." He had left it out on purpose, because he disliked it. "You see," he said finally, looking about him artlessly, "there's no more room." "Go away," said Mrs. Grumble. From his seat under a tree, to which he had retired, Mr. Jeminy watched Mrs.
And off he went along the path, to tell his wife, as he got into bed, that she was a lucky woman. But Mr. Jeminy stood in the doorway, gazing out across the hills, like David over Hebron. Below him the last late lanterns of the village burned in the valley.
Word Of The Day