United States or United Kingdom ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
They drove away from it now, up by Jake Miller's place, and past the Fizzletrees' and the Van Nostrands', then up the hill to the woods. The trees stood still like a great congregation, Marmaduke thought.
The sugar-refiner's manufactory, The milkmaid's shed, The baker's oven, The miller's mill, The laborer's plough, The sailor's ship? And even now is there nothing we have forgotten?
All that concerns its writer is that no sooner did the costume of the miller's daughters suggest that they would be eligible for the altar, than they grew so dear, so dear, that everything masculine and unattached was ambitious to be the jewel that trembled at their ear, or the girdle about their dainty, dainty waist.
Miller's house, which could be distinctly seen from the hotel. Richard still intended to take the early train for St. Louis, and so he retired at last, but Ethelyn sat where she was until the carriages taking the revelers home had passed, and the lights were out in Mrs. Miller's windows, and the bell of St. John's had ushered in the second hour of the fast.
"By , you've a lot more sense'n me. It's better lyin' here in the cool, than foolin' around in the sun; so I've brought yer suthin' to drink." "Oh, Tom," I groaned, "I'm sure that beer's bad for me." The Maker of Boats sat on his bench, and said that he knew of a brewer's carter in Sydney who, at Merriman's "pub," on Miller's Point, had had a cask of beer roll over him.
And perhaps I should have heard the echo of Joaquin Miller's sweet interpretation of that scene, for when men die, strange, sweet memories, old hymns and verses, old faces, all come back: And I am certain that last of all I should have heard the voice of the Master himself saying: "Insomuch as ye have done it unto the least of one of these little ones, my children, ye have done it unto me."
"Perhaps he will understand that 'happy' means good," she said, and so wrote the gentler phrase. Stephen Potter did understand; and the feeble outreachings which, during the few miserable years more of his life, he made towards uprightness, were partly the fruit of Draxy Miller's words. Draxy's journey home was uneventful. She was sad and weary.
The miller's wife was not only avaricious, but ill-natured; for, not content with cheating my brother of his due, she provoked her husband to revenge himself upon him for making love to her, which they accomplished thus.
And then she'll think it's you who did This dreadful unkind deed, And never speak to you again Or you with cookies feed." "Goodness me, but you are a very poor sort of a poet," said the little rabbit, peeping out of the hat box. "Your poetry is dreadful," and this made the Miller's Dog so ashamed of himself that he couldn't wag his tail or even bark. No, sir.
You've no notion what an appetite one gets in the maquis. Who sent us this was it Signorina Colomba or the mayor?" "No, uncle, it was the miller's wife. She gave me this for you, and a blanket for my mother." "What does she want of me?"
Word Of The Day