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Her little lecture was quite kind and touching; but unfortunately Anthony remained absolutely untouched. He listened to her in silence, with the same sullen expression, and whistled scornfully as he went out. Anne sighed; and then cheered herself up by remembering that winning a Pye's affections, like the building of Rome, wasn't the work of a day.
Thus jested his friends, and thus jested Edward Houstoun with them well assured that no gleam of the truth had shined on them that they never supposed his visits at Farmer Pye's possessed any greater attraction than could be derived from the farmer's details of improvements made at the Glen, of the increased value of lands, or the proceeds of the last year's crop.
His poems, taken in the mass, stand far higher than his prose works. His official Odes, indeed, among which the Vision of Judgement must be classed, are, for the most part, worse than Pye's and as bad as Cibber's; nor do we think him generally happy in short pieces. But his longer poems, though full of faults, are nevertheless very extraordinary productions.
Tom, however, thought differently. "Papa!" he exclaimed, plunging into it the moment Mr. Pye's back was turned, "you might have taken the opportunity to tell him that I shall leave the school. It is not often he comes here." "But you are not going to leave the school," said Mr. Channing. "Yes, I am," replied Tom, speaking with unmistakable firmness.
Rachel Lynde's chair, resting her shapely hands on that lady's broad shoulders. Her face was very pale, but her flashing eyes sought and faced defiantly Mrs. George Pye's cat-like orbs. Her voice quivered with passion and contempt. "You'll all have a fling at Lige Baxter, now that he's down. You couldn't say enough in his praise, once.
His admiration, if not audible, was sufficiently evident to its object at least so we interpret her tremulous and uncertain movements, the eloquent blood which glowed in her cheeks, and the mistakes which at length aroused Mrs. Pye's attention. "Why, Lucy! what under the sun and earth's the matter with you, child?
"Ketch, produce the keys this instant!" interposed the master. "You know my voice; Mr. Pye's. How dare you?" "I'll 'dare' you all, if you don't go away!" raved old Ketch, mistaking, or pretending to mistake, the disturbers for his enemies, the college boys. "It's a second edition of the trick you played me this evening, is it? I'll go to the dean with the first glimmer o' daylight "
The difficulty was, where to look for Charles. It was possible that he might have gone to the houses of any one of the schoolboys, and be staying there: if not very likely, still it was by no means impossible. Tom was despatched to Mr. Pye's, who had some half dozen of the king's scholars boarding in his house; and thence to other houses in the neighbourhood.
"I'd have stayed on good firm ground and let them dare away. Such absurdity!" said Marilla. Anne sighed. "But you have such strength of mind, Marilla. I haven't. I just felt that I couldn't bear Josie Pye's scorn. She would have crowed over me all my life. And I think I have been punished so much that you needn't be very cross with me, Marilla. It's not a bit nice to faint, after all.
"Don't talk to me about guessing!" imperiously spoke Gaunt. "I ask you what it was?" "Nothing less than the memorial to himself," laughed Brittle. "Some of us made a rough shell of it, and I thought I'd set on and copy it fair. When old Pye's voice came thundering, 'What's that you are so stealthily busy over, Mr.
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