Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 4, 2025
"Now you see why this place is called Brookdale," said Jerry, after they had passed four or five of these little streams. "Is that the reason, because there are so many brooks? I never thought of that before," said Oscar. "Yes, that's it," replied Jerry. "In the spring these brooks make quite a show; but they get low in the summer, and generally dry up in August, unless it's a very wet season."
I will not weary the reader with a detail of the long interview held that day with the old minister in his own house. It was good for me that I met him ere leaving Brookdale under the pressure of a first disappointment. His words of wisdom were yet in my ears.
Slowly and sadly I turned from the hallowed place, and went back towards the village inn. No interest for anything in Brookdale remained, and no surprise was created at the almost total obliteration of the old landmarks apparent on every hand. My purpose was to leave the place by the early stage that morning, and seek to forget that I had ever returned to the home of my childhood.
Out to the north the sea was shimmering and sparkling gaily, with little foam crests here and there ruffled up by the cool morning breeze. Oh, it would be a splendid day! And he, Ted Melvin, was to have a half holiday for the first time since he had come to live in Brookdale four years ago a whole afternoon off to go to the Sunday School picnic at the beach beyond the big hotel.
When he had got through, Oscar was himself surprised to find that he could write so good an epistle. The spelling, punctuation, and penmanship might have been improved, but in other respects the letter was creditable to him. I will print it as he intended it should read, and not precisely as he wrote it: "BROOKDALE, June 15, 185 .
It was about four miles distant, beyond the hills in the north-east part of the town, represented in the upper corner of the map of Brookdale. They were to carry their dinner, and Mrs. Preston accordingly filled a small basket with eatables. While she was doing this, Jerry took Oscar aside and said: "There is one thing more we want, and that is father's gun.
Yes, twenty years had intervened since I left the pleasant village of Brookdale, and not once during all this period had I visited the dear old spot that was held more and more sacred by memory. Hundred times had I purposed to do so, yet not until the lapse of twenty years was this purpose fulfilled. Then, sobered by disappointments, I went back on a pilgrimage, to the home of early days.
Oscar's uncle, from Brookdale, was now in the city, and was stopping for a few days at Mr. Preston's. He no sooner arrived, than Oscar applied to his parents for permission to return with him to Maine; but they did not give much encouragement to his proposal, although his uncle said he should like to have him make his family another visit.
To everybody in Brookdale he was simply Ted Melvin, a shy, odd-looking little fellow with big dreamy black eyes and a head of thick tangled curls which could never be made to look tidy and always annoyed Mrs. Jackson exceedingly. It was as yet too early to light the fire or go for the cows. Ted crept softly to a corner in the garret and took from the wall an old brown fiddle.
The annexed map of Brookdale will show the location of the pond, river, &c. Jerry lived in the house numbered 2. Oscar and Jerry spent the rest of the forenoon in the barn and wood-shed, and in the fields immediately around the house. After dinner, Mr. Preston told the boys they could have the horse and wagon, and as the family wanted some groceries, they might ride over to the store and get them.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking