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Updated: June 27, 2025
The old frontiersman slowly finished his task of coiling up a rope of wet cowhide, and then, producing a dirty pipe, he took a live ember from the fire and placed it on the bowl. He sucked slowly at the pipe-stem, and soon puffed out a great cloud of smoke.
This is now a little rococo and forlorn, but failure may be assured by travelling in this direction. If you are ambitious to disgust an editor at once, begin your poem with "Only." In fact you may as well head the lyric "Only." Only a spark of an ember, Only a leaf on the tree, Only the days we remember, Only the days without thee.
The professor, however, adjusted his spectacles solemnly and looked about him with much dignity. "I thought I saw a book I had dropped, almost in the fire," he explained glibly, "so I jumped to get it before a hot ember fell on it." "I had no idea you could jump like that, professor," laughed Jack. "You should have gone in for athletics at Stonefell."
"Dear me," said Hortense, "I'll be It all the time at this rate. I wonder if Coal and Ember are in the fireplace. She looked, but they weren't there. "I'll try the library," thought Hortense. She hadn't more than reached the center of the room when Coal and Ember dashed past her. "Why didn't you tell me?" said Hortense reproachfully to the bronze image of Buddha seated placidly on his pedestal.
“Forget not the magic of my dear Lady of the Shadows,” Prince Ember tenderly reminded her, “for without its aid this victory could scarcely have been won.” The Shadow Witch laughed sweetly. “On, on together, then,” she cried.
The messenger gave no heed, in his swift passing, to the loveliness of the land, but turning neither to right nor left, came straight to the arched and golden gate that gave entrance to the gardens of the Prince. Like an arrow he sped through it and on to the palace door. An Ember Fairy opened to his knock and, when he told his business, led him quickly to the Prince.
"Your fire's dead out, Martha," he added, poking among the ashes in search of a live ember. "Yes, Phil, it's out. I can't afford fire of an evening; besides it ain't cold just now." "You can afford matches, I suppose," growled Phil; "ah, here they are. Useful things matches, not only for lightin' a feller's pipe with, but also for well; so she must have it by to-morrow afternoon, must she?"
Vexed that he had not arrived in time, but knowing how great a risk he should run if he were seen by the Prince before the snare was set, he dropped down quickly beside a hillock of ash, where he could see without being seen. There he would lie hidden until Prince Ember had gone by on his way to the Cave.
Prince Ember obeyed, and immediately he, too, beheld the ugly form of the Ash Goblin bending over his snare. “Yes, there he is,” he said, “and I remember now how earnestly the Elf of the Borderland bade me be on my guard against his cunning.” “Ah, my Prince,” the Shadow Witch responded, “you may well be on your guard.
I love to recall the bustle of that arriving and how, as the motor came up the drive, Mis' Holcomb-that-was-Mame-Bliss and Mis' Amanda ran down on the gravel and waved their aprons; and how Mis' Postmaster Sykes and Mis' Mayor Uppers and Mis' Photographer Sturgis, having heard the machine pass their doors, had issued forth and followed it and arrived at the Proudfits' with: "I was right in the midst of a basque, cuttin' over an old lining, but I told Liddy Ember: 'You rip on.
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