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Updated: June 4, 2025
"'Tis from a lady, who waits below," said the girl. Mrs. Woffington went again to the window, and there she saw getting out of a coach, and attended by James Burdock, Mabel Vane, who had sent up her name on the back of an old letter. "What shall I do?" said Triplet, as soon as he recovered the first stunning effects of this contretemps. To his astonishment, Mrs.
"Because I think we're in for a big storm, and you might easily get lost again. Unless I'm mistaken, it's going to snow hard before morning." Henry Burdock proved a true weather prophet, for when the Bobbseys and the other got up the next morning the ground was covered with a mantle of newly-fallen snow, and more was sifting down from the clouds. The wind, too, was blowing fiercely.
"Might as well be in church, O' Man," said Mr. Polly. "A window ought to be exciting," said Parsons; "it ought to make you say: El-lo! when you see it." He paused, and Platt watched him over a snorting pipe. "Rockcockyo," said Mr. Polly. "We want a new school of window dressing," said Parsons, regardless of the comment. "A New School! The Port Burdock school.
These aren't measles, Nurse Jane! These are sticky, red berries from the bushes we jumped in as Uncle Wiggily did. The red berries are sticky, like burdock burrs, and they stuck to us." "Oh, my goodness!" cried Nurse Jane. "Wait a minute, children!" Then she ran to where Uncle Wiggily was lying in bed. She leaned over and picked off some of the red spots from his fur.
Oh, how he cried, and, what is better, he never threw stones at birds again. I call that a pretty good trick, don't you? Well, the burdock leaf came to the ground, and Susie ran home, and she was just in time to help her mother set bread. To-morrow night's story is going to be about Uncle Wiggily and the fairy spectacles.
A path ran from the summer-house along the steep, almost overhanging cliff, between the lumps of clay and tussocks of burdock. Where it ended, far below on the sandy shore, low waves were languidly foaming and softly purring.
The rooster ducked, and dodged in vain, for Gyp managed to do his outrageous dance exactly in front of him, wherever he might be. The hens kept up a perpetual squawking, and ran wildly about, while the downy chicks huddled in fear under the huge leaves of a burdock plant, and uttered little frightened peeps that, however, were unheard in the din that Gyp and the hens created.
Probably Ker and his wife sleep in the family burying-ground, the disused kirkyard of Lindean, near a little burn that murmurs under the broad burdock leaves on its way to join the Ettrick. Knox's "History" and a letter of his are the sources of this charge, and it is difficult to determine the amount of truth which it may contain.
Never could go a blackberrying with other gals, but the first thing they were calling out, 'that Salina had got a bean' and there would be a great long briar dragging to the bottom of my frock. It was my luck always to have things hanging onto me. I wish you could see the ticks and burdock leaves that I have picked off from this identical dress since harvest."
And he's upstairs free as the air. What on earth ought I to do?" "For instance, would it be a breach of faith if ? No." He went to a little untidy desk in the corner, and began a note. He tore this up half written, and wrote another. He read it over and considered it. Then he took an envelope and addressed it to "Colonel Adye, Port Burdock." The Invisible Man awoke even as Kemp was doing this.
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