United States or Turkmenistan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Nevertheless they had no thought of going away, and there were many things to encourage the brave. They had a good harbor on the river at the mouth of a fine creek, that they named Beargrass, and back of them was a magnificent forest of gum, buckeye, cherry, sycamore, maple and giant poplars.
I mind me of a sycamore I pass every winter day, with its dead fruit-clusters, a reminiscence of the flower-racemes, swinging in the frosty breeze, waiting until the spring push of the life within the twigs shoves them off.
He forgot for a moment the responsibility of wealth and engaged himself in the task of making the Memorial Day celebration in Sycamore Ridge the greatest event in the history of the town.
It did not last long, but the river was muddy enough and high enough for the Turner brothers to float the raft slowly out from the mouth of Kingdom Come and down in front of the house, where it was anchored to a huge sycamore in plain sight. At noon the clouds gathered and old Joel gave up his trip to town. "Hit'll begin in about an hour, boys," he said, and in an hour it did begin.
In front of her a girl, paying no heed to her companion, stood leaning against the trunk of the low, wide-branching sycamore tree near the shore. A narrow boat, now concealed from view by the dense growth of rushes, had brought her to the spot.
In 1841, he was returned to Illinois and stationed at Sycamore, and the following year was brought back to Wisconsin, and, as before stated, appointed to Brothertown. At the Conference of 1845, he took a location on account of family afflictions, but returned again to the work as soon as relieved of his embarrassments.
"I dunno what you can do for these girls," said the man. "I'd git out and push off the boat, but I don't dare with them aboard." But Hiram's mind had not been inactive, if he was standing in seeming idleness. Sister tugged at his sleeve again and whispered: "Have they got to stay there and drown, Hi?" "I guess not," he returned, slowly. "Let's see: this old sycamore leans right out over them.
The day I saw the winter wren I saw two golden-crowned kinglets fly from one sycamore to another in an open field, uttering their fine call-notes. That so small a body can brave the giant cold of our winters seems remarkable enough. These are mainly birds of the evergreens, although at times they frequent the groves and the orchards.
"A man mout well be rain blind in sich a storm as this, but I tell yo' that's nothin' but an ole sycamore drift log. If yo' shoot the boys'll never git tired o' damnin' yo', an' jest as likely as not the ossifers'll make yo' tote a rail through the mud termorrer." The boys were so near that every word could be distinctly heard, and they were floating nearer every moment.
His loving heart prompted him to clasp her in his arms, but she thrust him back and her voice, usually so pure and clear, sounded harsh and muffled as she asked why he had lingered so long and what he intended to confide to her. While cowering under the sycamore, she had not only struggled and prayed for composure, but also gazed into her own soul.
Word Of The Day