United States or Chile ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He tightened the straps of his tickler around his chest and under his armpits. He held out a hand and someone gave him a shoulderless shirt and coat. He slipped into them smoothly, Pooh-Bah dexterously using its little claws to help put its turret and body through the neatly hemmed holes. The small storm troop looked at Fay with deferential expectation.
Yes, and Mulligan Jacobs and Andy Fay were bitterly and eagerly side by side, and Ditman Olansen, crank-eyed, as if drawn by some affinity of bitterness, stood behind them, his head appearing between their heads.
"Partly because he has indigestion, constant indigestion, and then there's us, and boys are so expensive, they will grow so. It upsets him dreadfully." "But they can't help growing," Fay objected. "It wouldn't matter so much if they didn't both do it at once. But you see, there's only a year between them, and they're just about the same size.
Aurelia was overflowing with joy at the anticipated meeting, wrote a delighted letter to make the appointment, and skipped about the dark stairs and passages more like the butterfly she was than like Madam Belamour; while Fay and Letty found her a more delightful playfellow than ever, recovering all the animation she had lost during the last weeks.
It seemed to him to be wrong-headed and absurd, and he began to lose patience with her. On his last morning he sought and found her beside the sun-dial in the wrens' garden. Meg had taken little Fay to see Lady Mary's Persian kittens, but Tony preferred to potter about the garden with the aged man who was trying to replace Earley.
'The priest is the ambassador of Jesus Christ, and not like other ambassadors. He carries his Lord and Master about with him, and when the priest is with the people Almighty God is with them. That is what Father Fay reckoned himself. Almighty God, no less. He alluded to the consecrated wafers he had in his pocket.
Small yellow butterflies hovered amid the topmost branches of this underfoot forest. Fay leaned out of the pony carriage and picked from the high bank a spray of whortleberry with a butterfly poised on it. "I thought for one minute I might find a tiny, tiny butterfly nest with eggs in it," she said. "I do wish butterflies had nests like birds, Magdalen, don't you?
In how many faces we see the conflict, or the remains of conflict with a dual nature. Fay, as she was called by her family, seemed all of a piece with herself. Her unharassed countenance showed it, especially when, as at this moment, she looked harassed. Anxiety was evidently a foreign element. It sat ill upon her smooth face, as if it might slide off at any moment.
Their minds, quickly confused at the best of times, instinctively select and retain all they remember that upholds their own view of the situation and discard the rest. Fay could not answer Magdalen's trenchant question. She could only restate her own view of her husband's character. Magdalen did not make large demands on the truthfulness of others if they had very little of it.
Later, through Wada, I was to learn that his name was Andy Fay and that he claimed no more years than sixty-three. I leaned against the rail in the lee of the wheel-house, and stared up at the lofty spars and myriad ropes that I could guess were there. No, I decided I was not keen on the voyage. The whole atmosphere of it was wrong. There were the cold hours I had waited on the pier-ends.
Word Of The Day