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Updated: June 14, 2025
Those arbitrary and obstinate figures, which stood for apprehension to the most casual ear, stamped themselves on most things as the day wore on, and at tea-time Mrs. Barberry gave her other details, thinking her rather cold in the reception of them.
"Hamilton Bradley is good, too, isn't he?" Mrs. Barberry said. "Such a magnificent head. I adore him in Shakespeare." "He knows the conventions, and uses them with security," Lindsay replied, looking at Alicia; and she, with a little courageous air, demanded "Is the story true?" "The story of their relations? I suppose there are fifty. One of them is." Mrs.
The garnishings of her house are hardly fewer while the moving van people are so busy, and I am apt to delight in them all up to the very moment when the sweepers, the autumn winds, come and brusquely brush them out. Old man Barberry is very happy at this time too.
The occasion grew before her into a gorgeous flower, living, pulsating, and in the heart of its light and colour the petals closed over her secret, over him, the unconscious priest with the sloping shoulders, thinking of abstinence and listening to Mrs. Barberry. It transpired, when the men came up, that there was no unanimity about going to Government House.
Since he passed over it that afternoon, the road had changed, responsive to twilight and the coming dark. Nicholas knew it in all its phases, from the dawn of spring, vocal with the peeping of frogs, to the revery of winter, the silence of snow, and a hopeful glow in the west. Just here, by the barberry bush at the corner, he had stood still under the spell of Northern Lights.
It is a little like living for the first time in a house all right angles after after a life-long voyage in a small boat." "Isn't the house rather empty?" "Oh, well!" Alicia put out her hand and tucked an irrelevant bit of lace into Hilda's bosom. "I can tell you who is interested," she cried. "The Archdeacon the Archdeacon and Mrs. Barberry.
The third day, they should be treated like other candied fruit. See CANDIED. BARBERRY DROPS. Cut off the black tops, and roast the fruit before the fire, till it is soft enough to pulp with a silver spoon through a sieve into a china bason. Then set the bason in a saucepan of water, the top of which will just fit it, or on a hot hearth, and stir it till it grows thick.
Fustic boiled in soft water makes the strongest and brightest yellow dye; but saffron, barberry bush, peach leaves, or onion skins, will answer pretty well. Next take a bowl full of strong yellow dye, and pour in a great spoonful or more of the blue composition.
What is remarkable, the parliament thought that the matter deserved their attention. * Whitlocke, p. 624. Harleian Miscellany, vol. vi. p. 399. One Dorcas Barberry made oath before a magistrate, that she had been dead two days, and that Naylor had brought her to life. * Harleian Miscellany, vol. vi. p. 399 Thurloe, vol v. p. 708.
While this is not as showy as many of our shrubs, it is one that will win your friendship, because of its modest beauty, and will keep a place in your garden indefinitely after it has once been given a place there. Berberis the "Barberry" of "Grandmother's garden" is a most satisfactory shrub, for several reasons: It is hardy everywhere.
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