United States or Bangladesh ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Sir Patrick made no secret of the impression produced upon him by Mr. Crum's letter, when he and Arnold were left alone. "There is no denying," he said, "that matters have taken a very serious turn. My plans and calculations are all thrown out.
Atwater continued to his wife, "is where on earth Herbert could have got his story about this Crum's being a widower, and divorced, and with all those children. Do you know if Julia's written any of the family about these things and they haven't told the rest of us?" "No," said Mrs. Atwater. "I'm sure she hasn't.
'Oh! yo want to know abeawt Jenny Crum's pool, do yo? he said at last in a low agitated voice. 'Nobbut look, my lad! nobbut look! an see for yoursen. He paused, his chest heaving, his eye fixed. Then, suddenly, he broke out in a flood of passionate speech, still gripping David. 'Passon Maine! Passon Maine! ha yo got her, th' owd woman?
He would tell Margaret, 'Lias's old wife, who kept him and tended him like the apple of her eye. And he would find out about the pool, anyway. Jenny Crum's pool? What on earth did that mean? The name had never reached his ears before. Of course Uncle Reuben would know. The boy eyed it curiously, the details of 'Lias's grim vision returning upon him.
To be ashamed of his own father is perhaps the bitterest experience a young man can go through. It seemed to Val, hurrying away, that his career had ended before it had begun. How could he go up to Oxford now amongst all those chaps, those splendid friends of Crum's, who would know that his father was a 'bounder'! And suddenly he hated Crum. Who the devil was Crum, to say that?
The one in the centre wore the pink carnation, a white waistcoat, a dark moustache; he reeled a little as he walked. Crum's voice said slow and level: "Look at that bounder, he's screwed!" Val turned to look. The 'bounder' had disengaged his arm, and was pointing straight at them. Crum's voice, level as ever, said: "He seems to know you!" The 'bounder' spoke: "H'llo!" he said. "You f'llows, look!
This is the whole substance of her letter. I have only to add, that it does not contain the slightest allusion to the nature of the errand on which she left Glasgow." Sir Patrick happened to be alone when he opened Mr. Crum's letter. His first proceeding, after reading it, was to consult the railway time-table hanging in the hall.
Splendid gravel roads lead from Crum's Point to South Bend, and on through Mishawaka, alternating with sandy stretches to Goshen, which town is said by the Goshenites to be the prettiest in Indiana; but there seems to be considerable pride of locality in the great Hoosier State, and I venture there are scores of "prettiest towns in Indiana."
Surely he had too wide a mouth, not the best cut of waistcoat, no braid on his trousers, and his lavender gloves had no thin black stitchings down the back. Besides, he laughed too much Crum never laughed, he only smiled, with his regular dark brows raised a little so that they formed a gable over his just drooped lids. No! he would never be Crum's equal.
"Susanna Crum's father! How curious that he should live here!" I murmured; and at this moment the sun came out, and shone full, or at least almost full, on our future home. "Pettybaw! Petit bois, I suppose," said Salemina; "and there, to be sure, it is, the 'little wood' yonder." We drove to the Pettybaw Inn and Posting Establishment, and, alighting, dismissed the driver.
Word Of The Day