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Updated: June 20, 2025
"I looked in the direction indicated by my companion. I saw Pompo standing by the root of a very large tree, looking upward, shaking his tail, and barking at intervals. Before I had time to make any farther observations Abe's voice again sounded in my ears. "`Gollies! it am a buttonwood!
The old Buttonwood tree that stood in the corner of the Garden, and who was said to be the oldest inhabitant, grew very tiresome, for he counted up on his branches the number of years that he had seen the Lilac blow, and declared twenty times a day, as if he had not said it at all, that he had never known the bush to be so tardy.
He made the body of this house of large whitewood logs, split oak shakes with which to cover it, and dug a well east of the house. Into this well he put the shell of a large buttonwood log; we called it a "gum." It was said that water would not taste of buttonwood; we had very good water there. Father borrowed Mr.
One evening, many years since it was a blustering December evening the wind howling as it dashed the old buttonwood limbs in its fury against the parlor windows of the country house where a few of us were assembled to pass the winter holidays, we gathered before a roaring fire of walnut and oak, which made every thing within doors as cheery and comfortable as all without was desolate and dreary.
Now you will have to make up for it by bringing in some wood and putting more water into the leach." "With the utmost pleasure," cried Yates, springing to his feet. "It is a delight to atone for a fault by obeying your commands." The girl laughed. "Buttonwood," she said. Before Yates could think of anything to say in reply Mrs. Bartlett appeared at the back door.
Oh, yes! he was willing she should go to the "old Buttonwood;" but as her slight figure vanished in the distance, he seemed sad and uneasy, and the old expression came again, and it staid through the long day.
"Katy," and Wilford grew very earnest in his attempts to defend himself, "do you remember that day we sat under the buttonwood tree and you promised to be mine? Try and recall the incidents of that hour and see if I did not hint at some things past which I wished had been otherwise did not offer to show you the blackest page of my whole life and you would not see it. Was that so, Katy?"
We were getting down into the Death river country and ready fire-arms made agreeable companions. Furthermore, at his direction I tied the rather goodly supply of buttonwood into a bundle and swung it to my back.
Richie, as she saw him coming down the garden path towards the barn. Her face was flushed and gay, and her hair, shaken from its shining wreath around her head, hung in two braids down her back. She had had a swing put up under the big buttonwood beside the stable, and David, climbing into it, had clung to the rigging to be dashed, side wise, on to the rocks of the carriageway, where Mrs.
Is it that tall, slender, hazel-eyed boy, with a glance like a falcon, whose elbows rest on his book as he gazes out on the great buttonwood tree, and is calculating how he shall fix his squirrel trap when school is out? Or is it that curly-headed little rogue, who is shaking with repressed laughter at seeing a chicken roll over in a dinner basket?
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