United States or Palestine ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I do not quite like this," said a deep hollow voice; and looking up, Bevis saw the face of the owl at the mouth of a hole in the pollard-tree. He was winking in the light, and could not persuade himself to come out, which was the reason the council was held at the foot of his house, as it was necessary he should take part in it.
Under the old pollard-tree, by the side of John Avenel's house, there cowered, breathless and listening, John Avenel's daughter Nora.
The long friendless highway, stretching on on towards the remorseless city, and the doors of home opening on the desolate thoroughfare, and the old pollard-tree beside the threshold, with the ravens wheeling round it and calling to their young. He too had watched that threshold from the same desolate thoroughfare. He too had heard the cry of the ravens.
Her heart failed her; she crept under the old pollard-tree, to gather up resolve, to watch, and to listen. She saw the rigid face of the thrifty, prudent mother, with the deep lines that told of the cares of an anxious life, and the chafe of excitable temper and warm affections against the restraint of decorous sanctimony and resolute pride.
So Bevis and the squirrel, the hare and the two jays proceeded to the pollard-tree; there was no need for Bevis to hide now, because he was recognised as a great friend of the squirrel's and the enemy of the weasel. A noisy crowd had already collected, which was augmented every minute, and there was a good deal of rough pushing and loud talking, not unmingled with blows.
"God bless her!" cried John, heartily. There was a rustle under the boughs of the old hollow-hearted pollard-tree. "Ha, ha! Hark! I said that so loud that I have startled the ravens!" "How he did love her!" said Mrs. Avenel, thoughtfully. "I am sure he did; and no wonder, for she looks every inch a lady; and why should not she be my lady, after all?" "He? Who?
Sometimes Philip got a little ahead, and sometimes it was Harry; but Philip was first when they reached the pollard-tree, and he kept ahead, too, as they came easily back down stream towards the spot from whence they started. "Hallo!" puffed out Harry, all at once, "where's Fred?" "Got out," gasped Philip, for he was getting out of breath with his exertions.
They were all there; even the rat did not dare stay away, lest his loyalty should be suspected, but took up his station at the foot of the pollard-tree, and the mouse sat beside him. The rook sat on the oak, no great way from the squirrel; Kauc, the crow, chose a branch of ash which projected close to the pollard. So envious was he of the crown that he could not stay far from it.
"Ha, ha!" laughed John, chucking his prim wife under the chin, "you did not say that to me when I stole your first kiss under that very pollard-tree no house near it then!" "Hush, John, hush!" and the prim wife blushed like a girl. "Pooh," continued John, merrily, "I don't see why we plain folk should pretend to be more saintly and prudish-like than our betters.
The long friendless highway, stretching on on towards the remorseless city, and the doors of home opening on the desolate thoroughfare, and the old pollard-tree beside the threshold, with the ravens wheeling round it and calling to their young. He too had watched that threshold from the same desolate thoroughfare. He too had heard the cry of the ravens.
Word Of The Day