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At Bais des Pierres we handed over the residue of the commissaries of the Abwee-Chemun to Jimmie Friday, including personally many pairs of well-worn golf-breeches, sweaters, rubber coats, knives which would be proscribed by law in New York. If Jimmie ever parades his solemn wilderness in these garbs, the owls will laugh from the trees.
There was an array of fancy articles in the room a battered, soiled and well-worn array of chipped basins, of toothless combs, of all those manifold untidy trifles which, in their hurry and carelessness, two women will leave scattered about when they undress and wash together amid purely temporary surroundings, the dirty aspect of which has ceased to concern them.
My hand was on the familiar, well-worn latch, yet I almost hesitated to enter, so excited was I with eager anticipations of welcome. The spacious hall our sitting-room was deserted. A fire was blazing on the hearth, and plates were laid on the oak table as in preparation for a meal, but there was no one to speak to me.
Suddenly the young girl, who had, with unabashed curiosity, knelt beside the exploring official hands of the Red Chief, uttered a cry of gratification. "Here's something! It dropped from the bosom of his shirt on the ground. Look!" She was holding in the air, between her thumb and forefinger, a folded bit of well-worn newspaper. Her eyes sparkled. "Shall I open it?" she asked. "Yes."
Would to God this carpet beneath my feet might change to velvet moss and springy turf, these walls to the trees and whispering boskage I grew to love so well, this halting pen to the smooth shaft of sledge hammer or the well-worn crank of the Tinker's little forge, if I might but behold again she who trod those leafy ways with the stately, vigorous grace of Dian's very self, she who worked and wrought and sang beside me with love for me in her deep eyes and thrilling in the glory of her voice; she who sped light-footed to greet me in the dawn, who clung to kiss me "good night" amid the shadows.
How often have I seen Kenyon and Procter chirping together over an old quarto that had floated down from an early century, or rejoicing together over a well-worn letter in a family portfolio of treasures! They were a pair of veteran brothers, and there was never a flaw in their long and loving intercourse.
His well-worn clothes had suffered somewhat from the restrictions of a second-class cabin shared with two other men. But the aspect which had presented itself to her brief glance had been not so much roughness of clothing as of mood expressing itself in his countenance. He was thinking harshly and angrily of the life ahead of him.
This individual was also tall and was dressed in well-worn outing garments that gave him the appearance of a man of leisure taking a day off. "Think that's this here Kearns, partner?" whispered Perk, eagerly. "Just who it must be, Perk," came the cautious reply. "Be careful about making any sort of little move that might catch his attention, and keep your eyes fastened on him.
He presents me with his card, which shows that he bears the title of "Reverend", also the sobriquet of "Mountain Missionary". I ask him to permit me to examine the hymn-book which he uses in his work, and with touching eagerness he presses upon me a well-worn volume bearing the title "Waves of Glory". I seat myself and note down a few of the baits it sets out for hungry wage-slaves: O, there's a plenty, O, there's a plenty, There's a plenty in my Father's bank above!
It was not until she reached home after a brisk walk through the crisp air, that the turmoil in her brain subsided. On the hall table, beside a well-worn copy of Shelley, lay the Doctor's gloves and soft gray hat. She seized the gloves impulsively and laid them against her cheek. "Dear, dear Doctor!" she whispered almost fiercely. "So good, and kind, and and wonderful!"