Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 6, 2025
Farnshaw, who was turning the same matter over disconsolately as she sat on the side of the bed, shook her head with the bitter certainty that her fate would pursue her, and replied hopelessly: "It wouldn't make no difference, I guess, Lizzie. He'd be there, an' it'd be just the same."
Catching the limber end desperately, she jerked it sidewise; unconsciously, she had deflected her father's hand so that it struck her head just below the ear. It stretched her senseless at his feet. Josiah Farnshaw was aghast. With a gulping cry of alarm and pity, he stooped to lift his unconscious daughter. He had not intended to do so brutal a thing. "Now look what you've gone an' done!" Mrs.
Farnshaw remembered his daughter's tears, and the feeling grew that instead of being lauded for what he considered a great sacrifice on his part, he was coming in for a blame wholly unexpected, and that this woman was siding with the girl and going to spoil her. People of the farm, more than any other class, resent being blamed, and Josiah Farnshaw was an extreme representative of his class.
Nathan and the new man were coming in the distance as John Hunter drove away, and the girl turned back into the kitchen to help with the supper. "Lizzie Farnshaw! And you are the Elizabeth these folk have been talkin' about? Well, I'll be hornswoggled!" Nathan and the new boarder had just come in. "Is it really you, Luther?" Elizabeth asked, and there was no mistaking the glad tones.
At last he shut the blade of the knife down ostentatiously, replaced it in his trousers' pocket, and announced slowly: "Well, sir, as for me and mine, I think we'll stay right here." Mrs. Farnshaw gave a despairing, "Oh!" and covered her face with her hands to strangle back her tears. Her one hope had been that poverty would accomplish what the flax had failed to do.
There was a sack of butterscotch, and they talked of Scott, and Dickens, and the other books Elizabeth Farnshaw had absorbed from Aunt Susan's old-fashioned library; and Elizabeth was surprised to find that she had read almost as much as this college man, and still more surprised to find that she remembered a great deal more of what she had read than he seemed to do.
The blessing of childhood is that it cannot be cheated of its visions, and the blood of adolescence was coursing riotously through the veins of the daughter of the Farnshaw house.
Kansas began to get its breath. Never was promise of crops more encouraging. There was a distinct note of reassurance and hopefulness in the air. What became of the grasshoppers nobody knew exactly, but they went almost as fast as they hatched. Some shook their heads and said, "Wait till hot weather." Josiah Farnshaw moved steadily ahead with his planting.
I've only got along peaceably this far by not talking to him of anything at all. It's his way. Let it alone. I'm sorry I ever said it, but it can't be helped." "Yes, it can," Mrs. Farnshaw persisted. "Anyhow, he's your pa, an' an' an' you owe it t' him. You owe it t' me too, t' make it right. I'll never have a day of peace with him again if you don't. You'd no business t' talk of partin' nohow!
Farnshaw had returned to his home, but nothing beyond that. Another week passed, and again John refused to take Elizabeth to see Aunt Susan. This time he said that the team had worked all week, and that he felt that the horses needed rest. A new team was added to the farm assets and the next Sunday John said he was too tired himself to go away from home.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking