United States or French Guiana ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It was too tempting an offer to be refused, and I forthwith bestowed my affections on a beautiful grey pullet, whose dignified carriage and speckled exterior bespoke her high lineage. "That's Kitty," said Mrs. C . "I am so glad you fancy her; she is one of my nicest young hens. We'll catch her for you in a moment."
"There it is, Bessy; it's what I've been telling you," said Mrs. Pullet, in a tone of prophetic sadness; "it's your children, there's no knowing what they'll come to." Mrs. Tulliver was mute, feeling herself a truly wretched mother. As usual, the thought pressed upon her that people would think she had done something wicked to deserve her maternal troubles, while Mrs.
"Dear heart, dear heart!" said Mr. Glegg in a melancholy tone, as he followed his wife out of the room. "Mr. Tulliver, how could you talk so?" said Mrs. Tulliver, with the tears in her eyes. "Let her go," said Mr. Tulliver, too hot to be damped by any amount of tears. "Let her go, and the sooner the better; she won't be trying to domineer over me again in a hurry." "Sister Pullet," said Mrs.
At length, in a case of aberration such as this, comment presented itself as more expedient than any answer. "You haven't seen the end o' your trouble wi' that child, Bessy," said Mrs. Pullet; "she's beyond everything for boldness and unthankfulness. It's dreadful. I might ha' let alone paying for her schooling, for she's worse nor ever." "It's no more than what I've allays said," followed Mrs.
James's Park, and thence back, and dined very handsome, with a good soup, and a pullet, for 4s. 6d. the whole. Thence back to the Rolls, and did a little more business: and so by water to White Hall, whither. I went to speak with Mr.
"And here's where she's made her nest," said little Jane, stepping aside from a tangle of blackberry-vines, herds-grass, and harebells, where lay a half-dozen pullet pearls. "A pretty mother you'd make, Miss, gadding and gossiping down in the meadow with that naughty black hen! Who do you suppose is going to bring up your family for you?
"Homeless!" repeated Asaph. "What's that got to do with it? Cy ain't runnin' the Old Woman's Home." "Well, well!" observed the captain resignedly. "There's no use in rowin' about what can't be helped. Bailey says he shipped her for a month's trial, and here comes the depot wagon now. That's her on the aft thwart, I judge. She AIN'T what you'd call a spring pullet, is she!" She certainly was not.
There was only one place in the neighborhood where he could get a pullet. That was at Farmer Green’s chicken house. And for some reason he did not care to visit the farm buildings until it grew darker. So he amused himself by making the woods echo with his strange cry, “Whoo-whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo, to-whoo-ah!” And now and then he threw in a few “wha-whas,” just for extra measure.
"I know not about that," said the smith; "but I know that a man with a gray palmer's hat and gown was here no very long time ago, and that he sat on yonder stump and ate a cold pullet and drank a flask of wine. Then he begged from me one of my nails, and filling his scrip with stones, he went upon his way. Look at these nails, and see if they are not the same as that which he has sold you."
Now there's Morgan le Fay, as fresh and young as a Vassar pullet, to all appearances, and here is this old duke of the South Marches still slashing away with sword and lance at his time of life, after raising such a family as he has raised. As I understand it, Sir Gawaine killed seven of his sons, and still he had six left for Sir Marhaus and me to take into camp.
Word Of The Day