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"He promised he'd pay my college bills, when my father died; he promised he'd build the new wing to the Rectory; he promised he'd let me have Jibb's field and the Six-acre Meadow and much he executed his promises! And it's to this man's son this scoundrel, gambler, swindler, murderer of a Rawdon Crawley, that Matilda leaves the bulk of her money. I say it's un-Christian. By Jove, it is.
Lightfoot won't be in a condition to drive for a month to come." "I don't care. She's out now; and the way she was putting it down when I saw her, would have made a locomotive look cloudy." "Where did he get her?" was inquired. "She's been in the six-acre field, over by Mason's Bridge, for the last week or so," Matthew answered.
Palmer Field was made possible through two gifts, the first of $1,500 from the Hon. Peter White, Regent from 1904 to 1908, and the second of $3,000 from ex-Senator T.W. Palmer, '49, of Detroit. It comprises a rolling six-acre tract, just south of the Observatory, and therefore within easy walking distance of the Gymnasium.
Fortunately for Smith, he did not have to depend upon Hale for a place in which to carry on his operations. His wife had a six-acre place in a corner of her father's farm, adjoining the farm of Joseph McKune. Upon this little strip of land Smith moved a partly-finished house, twenty-six feet broad, eighteen feet deep and fourteen feet in the posts.
No other Colonial country house of brick that now remains holds an interest, either architectural or historic, quite equal to that of Stenton, which stands among fine old oaks, pines and hemlocks in a six-acre park, all that now remains of an estate of five hundred acres located on Germantown Avenue on the outskirts of Germantown near the Wayne Junction railroad station.
And in the middle of a six-acre rose garden stood a handsome statute of one of my own sect, Flora by name, jest lookin' down as if she owned the hull on't, and wuz proud and happy to be there, as well she might she'll never git into such a delightful spot agin, I don't believe.
Do you remember Farmer Long's six-acre field?" "Where he keeps the bull?" exclaimed Fly. "You haven't made the hole there, Dave?" "Yes, I have, in one corner! It's the best place in all the world, for not a soul will dare to come near the field while the bull is there. You needn't be frightened, Fly! He's always taken home at night! He's not there now.
Farmer Long's six-acre field was nearly a quarter of a mile away, but the children reached it in good time, and Fly looked down with interest on the scene of David's excavations. The hole, which must have given the little boy considerable labor, was nearly three feet deep, and about a foot wide. In the bottom lay a large beef bone. "He won't like it much!" said David.
Wayside friends was beginnin' to get mighty scarce, an' I was feelin' lonesome above the average one mornin', when I came to a pause in front of one o' these little six-acre ranches where they raise lawn grass an' fresh air.
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