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Updated: June 10, 2025
'Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered! That's Miss Carver's style. She looks as if she just wanted to forgive somebody something. I'm afraid you ain't wicked enough, Barker. Look here! What's the reason we can't make up a little party for the Easter service at the Catholic cathedral Sunday night? The girls would like to go, I know." "No, no, I can't!
She had hung a great kettle on the crane over the fire, where the onion soup for supper was now simmering slowly. Near the fire sat a little girl, busily playing and singing to herself. Little Remember Allerton was only six years old, but she liked to be with Hannah, Mistress Carver's maid. This afternoon Remember had been watching Hannah build the fire and make the soup.
It is an architectural extravaganza, a bacchanalia of color and design, as fantastic and unreal as the city of a dream. The steep-pitched, curiously shaped roofs are covered with tiles of every color peacock blue, vermilion, turquoise, emerald green, burnt orange; no inch of exposed woodwork has escaped the carver's cunning chisel; everywhere gold has been laid on with a spendthrift hand.
The play might have been inspired from reading Keats' Lamia, but is probably derived from the work of Isadora Duncan. This chapter has hereafter only a passing word or two on literal sculptural effects. It has more in mind the carver's attitude toward all that passes before the eye.
Will the brimstone catch from your pipe, my lad? 'My pipe is out, Phelps, ever so long. Damn it, I am not afraid of an owl, man. Give me the lanthorn, and stay here. I'm not half done with you yet, my friend. 'Well said, my boy, well said! Go straight to Carver's, mind you. The other sleepy heads be snoring, as there is nothing up to-night. No dallying now under Captain's window.
RANDAL ROONEY . . . . . Son of the Widow Catherine Rooney a Lover of Honor McBride. MR. GERALD O'BLANEY . . . . A Distiller. PATRICK COXE . . . . . Clerk to Gerald O'Blaney. MRS. CARVER . . . . . Wife of Mr. Carver. MISS BLOOMSBURY . . . . . A fine London Waiting-maid of Mrs. Carver's. MRS. CATHERINE ROONEY, commonly called CATTY ROONEY . . . . A Widow Mother of Randal Rooney.
The physical and moral state of the inhabitants are the principal objects of this work. Carver's Travels through the Interior Parts of North America, 1766-68. 8vo.
So children are told, in Scotland, that, if the wind changes while they are making faces, the grimace will be permanent. The seer will, in the same way, become what he pretends to be, a corpse. This desertion of Carver's tale may be pardoned for the curiosity of the topic.
It was evidently a spot of special sanctity, and, approaching the steps, we saw, behind a gilded framework of stars and protected by glass, a wooden image of the Saviour, naked, covered with spots of blood, crowned with thorns, and expressing all the human wretchedness that the carver's skill could represent.
By the way, if he doesn't come pretty soon I'll phone her pa to send the carriage for her. If I was Colton I wouldn't put much confidence in Carver's showing up in a hurry. You saw the gang he was with, didn't you? They don't get home till morning, till daylight doth appear, as a usual thing. Hello! that's the carriage now, ain't it? Guess papa wasn't taking any chances."
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