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Updated: May 4, 2025
They grow in enormous bushes, far above one's head, in impenetrable thickets, extending for yards each way. "Rose hedges Abloom to the edges." Every country road is walled in by them; every brookside is glorified by their rich masses of color; and no rocky wall is so bare but here and there a tiny shoot finds root, and open its rosy bloom.
If a winsome maid adorns herself with a wreath from the garden, and carries a posy gathered at the brookside, it is for the second time that their charms are impressed into service; for the flowers' own ends of attraction all their scent and loveliness were called into being long before.
Aunt Bettie and Edith both had good soprano voices and Ruth a fair contralto. Bob sang tenor and his uncle bass. It was Maria, though, that surprised them with a remarkable good mezzo-soprano. They were all too happy to sleep, so they sang song after song until the clock struck eleven. Then they sang "The Happy Farmer" song again and went to bed. It had been a great day for Brookside Farm.
After a good deal of climbing, they reached the flat rock by the brookside where Jerry Sheming had requested Ruth to leave the mattock. There was no sign of the fugitive about. Ruth did not tell Tom where the mouth of the secret tunnel lay nor did Tom ask for information.
"Love has many languages, but the heart talks through all of them. The pallid or burning cheek tells of the failing or leaping fountain which gives it color. The lovers at the 'Brookside' could hear each other's hearts beating. When Genevieve, in Coleridge's poem, forgot herself, and was beforehand with her suitor in her sudden embrace,
"Father Izaak pleasant company would be at any moment," Hilda assented; "but what do you want him for just now? To cook the fish for you?" "Not exactly; I doubt if he was as good in the kitchen as by the brookside; but to give me his famous receipt for cooking pickerel. I should like to astonish the family with it.
It was over seventy miles to Apple Tree Island from Oak Hill, quite too long a trip for the children to make without a break. This was partly the reason Father Blossom planned to stop at Brookside Farm. The real reason, of course, was Aunt Polly.
That day his brookside singer became the Song-sparrow; the brown triller, the Veery Thrush. The Trilliums, white and red, the Dogtooth Violet, the Spring-beauty, the Trailing Arbutus all for the first time got names and became real friends, instead of elusive and beautiful, but depressing mysteries.
"Hair-brushes and combs and towels and soap, and your tooth-brush and mine, and the tooth-paste," answered Mrs. Horton. "And pajamas for you and a nightie for me, in case we can't get the trunk to-night." "But it is going on the train just like us," urged Sunny Boy. "Daddy said so." "But it will be nearly night before we reach Brookside," explained Mrs.
It will be just the spot for us to write and study in when we want to be alone; or it will even do for a theatre; and it is scarcely more than half a mile up the canyon. 'How did you find it? asked Margery. 'As I was walking along by the brookside, I saw a snake making its way through the bushes, and 'Goodness! shrieked Polly, 'I shall not write there, thank you. 'Goose! Just wait a minute.
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