Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 5, 2025
Oh, life is thrillingly uncertain and interwoven and mysterious! The Opera House was crowded. There were a lot of women there, the majority of them staid Cherryvale matrons who were regular subscribers to the Lyceum Course, but Missy, regarding them severely, wondered if they were there hoping to get kissed. Presently Mr.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Merriam," said Mr. Briggs. He was dark and not very good-looking not nearly so good-looking as Raymond but there was something in his easy, self-assured manner that struck her as very distingue. She was impressed, too, by the negligent way in which he wore his clothes; not nearly so "dressed-up" looking as the Cherryvale boys, yet in some subtle way declassing them.
In Cherryvale it would be considered bad grammar; but, evidently, grammar rules were different in olden times. The unusual phraseology of the whole narrative fascinated Missy; even when you could hardly understand it, it was inspiring. Yes, that was the word. In inspiring! That was because it was the true language of Romance.
It was very beautiful out on the porch, greying twilight, and young little stars just coming into being, all aquiver as if frightened. The talk turned to Missy's imminent visit. "Aren't you afraid you'll get homesick?" asked grandma. It was Missy's first visit away from Cherryvale without her mother. A year ago she would have dreaded the separation, but now she was almost grown-up.
Dobson had probably been there lecturers usually were great travellers. He'd probably been everywhere led a thrilling sort of life the sort of life that makes one interesting. Oh, if only she could talk to him just once. She sighed. Why didn't interesting people like that ever come to Cherryvale to live? Everybody in Cherryvale was so so commonplace.
Perhaps Pete's filial devotion was due to the fact that Polly Currier resided in Cherryvale; Polly was attending the State University where Pete was a "Post-Grad." Missy listened to Cousin Pete's talk of college life with respect, admiration, and some unconscious envy. There was one word that rose, like cream on milk, or oil on water, or fat on soup, inevitably to the surface of his conversation.
Melissa admired Cousin Pete very much, for he was big and handsome and wore more stylish-looking clothes than did most of the young men in Cherryvale. Also, he was very old nineteen, and a sophomore at the State University. Very old. Naturally he was much wiser than Missy, for all her acquired wisdom. She stood in awe of him.
"Sometimes I be an' sometimes not. Miss Farnshaw made me think of you some way when I see her this afternoon." Noting his wife's look of surprise, he explained: "I mean when I see you down to th' Cherryvale meetin' house. An' it didn't take me long t' make up my mind after that, neither." Mrs.
A trite and commonplace phrase, but potent to plunge errant, winging fancies down to earth. The chattering ceased short. No one had thought of tickets, nor even of money. The girls of the party looked appalled in Cherryvale the girls never dreamed of carrying money to school; then furtively they glanced at the boys.
Yes, Tess said it WAS the governess-cart; and her answer was as solemn as Missy's question. It was that same "dinner" at the "vicarage" in Cherryvale one dines at mid-day, and the Presbyterian minister blindly believed he had invited the O'Neills for supper that gave Tess one of her most brilliant inspirations. It came to her quite suddenly, as all true inspirations do.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking