United States or New Caledonia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
I see he wouldn't stop, so I had to go and open the door, and there stood Serena Fogg, there stood the author of "Wedlock's Peaceful Repose." I felt like a fool. For I knew she had heard every word, I see she had by her looks. She looked skairt, and as surprised and sort o' awe-stricken as if she had seen a ghost.
Campbell, in his poem of "Reullura," alludes to the married monks of Iona: "... The pure Culdees Were Albyn's earliest priests of God, Ere yet an island of her seas By foot of Saxon monk was trod, Long ere her churchmen by bigotry Were barred from holy wedlock's tie. 'Twas then that Aodh, famed afar, In lona preached the word with power, And Reullura, beauty's star, Was the partner of his bower."
I wuz just as innocent as a babe, but I didn't dispute him much, for I see a little crack open in the parlor door, and I knew the author of "Wedlock's Peaceful Repose" was a-listenin'.
Campbell, in his poem of "Reullura," alludes to the married monks of Iona: "... The pure Culdees Were Albyn's earliest priests of God, Ere yet an island of her seas By foot of Saxon monk was trod, Long ere her churchmen by bigotry Were barred from holy wedlock's tie. 'Twas then that Aodh, famed afar, In lona preached the word with power, And Reullura, beauty's star, Was the partner of his bower."
Wall, the author of "Wedlock's Peaceful Repose" wuz a-waitin' for me to the table; the men had all got through and gone out. She sot right by me, and she had missed me, I could see. Her eyes looked bigger than ever, and more sad like. She said, "she was dretful sorry for me," and I believed her. She asked me in a awe-stricken tone, "if I had such trials every day?" And I told her "No, I didn't."
Wall, the author of "Wedlock's Peaceful Repose" wuz a-waitin' for me to the table; the men had all got through and gone out. She sot right by me, and she had missed me, I could see. Her eyes looked bigger than ever, and more sad like. She said, "she was dretful sorry for me," and I believed her. She asked me in a awe-stricken tone, "if I had such trials every day?" And I told her "No, I didn't."
But I kep' calm; I have got giant self-control, and I used every mite of it, every atom of control I had by me, and kep' calm. I see I must for I see that Miss Fogg looked bad; yes, I see that the author of "Wedlock's Peaceful Repose" wuz pretty much used up. She looked curius, curiuser than the floor looked, and that is goin' to the complete end of curosity, and metafor.
The author of "Wedlock's Peaceful Repose" came out into the kitchen. I told her she might, if she wanted to, for I see I wuzn't goin' to have a minute's time to go into the parlor and visit with her.
She subdooes the reckless, subjoogates the rebellious, sobers the friv'lous, burns the ground from onder the indolent moccasins of that male she's roped up in holy wedlock's bonds, an' p'ints the way to a higher, happier life.
Wall, suffice it to say, I sithed deep, and opened the other letter, thinkin' it would kind o' take my mind off. And for all the world! I couldn't hardly believe my eyes. But it wuz! It wuz from Serena Fogg. It wuz from the Authoress of "Wedlock's Peaceful Repose." I hadn't heard a word from her for upwards of four years. And the letter brung me startlin' intelligence.
Word Of The Day