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Updated: June 2, 2025
Fairchild always had two plain muslin frocks, with white mittens and neat black shoes, for Lucy and Emily to wear when they went to see Lady Noble. As Mr. Fairchild's house was as much as two miles distance from Sir Charles Noble's, Sir Charles always used to send his carriage for them, and to bring them back again at night. One morning, just at breakfast-time, Mr.
It didn't take Danny long to dress and get downstairs, his hair all tousled and his eyes still heavy with sleep. "Let's see your tickets," he demanded. Chris let him see his, but kept a possessive hold of one end. There it was: BURROWS AND FAIRCHILD'S "That's a ticket, all right," Danny remarked. "Was that all you had to do to get it carry water for the el'funts?"
Just after sundown Bernard signaled that the relief column had reached him, but there is not a question of doubt had not the volunteers pressed the Indians so hard at a critical time Fairchild's, Mason's and Perry's command would have been annihilated. Jud Small was badly wounded in the shoulder and afterwards told me that he was shot by an Indian not twenty feet away.
But now the hills were brown with the killing touch of frost; the white of the snowy range was creeping farther and farther over the mountains; the air was crisp with the hint of zero soon to come; the summer was dead, and Fairchild's hopes lay inert beside it. He was only working now because he had determined to work.
Dizzily the sandy-haired man swung about in his tracks, sagged, then fell, unconscious. Fairchild leaped upon him, calling at the same time to the girl: "Find me a rope! I 'll truss his hands while he 's knocked out!" Anita leaped into action, to kneel at Fairchild's side a moment later with a hempen strand, as he tied the man's hands behind his back. There was no need to worry about Harry.
"I 've gone through!" he announced in happy surprise. "I 've gone through. We 're at the end of it!" Up went Fairchild's carbide. Where the pick still hung in the rocky mass, a tiny hole showed, darker than the surrounding refuse. He put forth a hand and clawed at the earth about the tool; it gave way beneath his touch, and there was only vacancy beyond.
Author of "Kate Wetherell," "A Pillar of Salt," "The Son of a Fiddler," "Uncle William," "The Ibsen Secret," "Simeon Tetlow's Shadow," "Happy Island," "Mr. Achilles," "The Taste of Apples," "The Woman in the Alcove," "Aunt Jane," "The Symphony Play," "Unfinished Portraits," and "The Green Jacket." She lives in Northampton, Mass. John Fairchild's Mirror. LEWIS, ADDISON. Born in Minneapolis, 1889.
It is a pity for you not to have kept up writing to her; she is very kind and very rich and childless she might be a good friend to her little name-daughter. Mrs. Fairchild's face flushed again: I rather think Biddy had inherited something of her habit of hasty speech from her mother, kind-hearted and good as Mrs. Vane was.
"Where are you going?" "I am going after the cemetery keeper and the constable," answered Sam, and walked off without another word. Lew Flapp watched Sam's departure with much anxiety. As my old readers know, he was a coward at heart, and the thought of being put under arrest for the robbery of Aaron Fairchild's shop made him quake in every limb.
Rough's got a letter for him, but we don't know if it's a shop or only a house. 'Mr. Fairchild's, repeated the little girl, 'he's my father; it's our shop. I'll show it you, and a faint pink flush of excitement came into her pale face. These were the Rectory young ladies, she had been sure of it when she saw them in the bazaar. Fancy wouldn't mother be surprised to see them coming in with her?
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