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Updated: May 12, 2025
"You'd got all the lines and bait ready, hadn't you?" said Bob cunningly. "Yes, everything's ready, and I meant to ask father as soon as I got back. Here, hi! Mother Bonnet, how long will father be?" "Oh, all depends on the wind," said the fresh-looking old lady coming out, smiling and smoothing her hair. "They've gone across to Swansea, my dear. It will be a long time 'fore they're back."
That Armine should have set up a lady of this calibre for the first goddess of his fancy was one of the comical chances of life, but she was a fine, handsome, fresh-looking woman of five-and-thirty, with a strong vein of sentiment- ecclesiastical and poetic- just ignorant enough to gush freely, and too genuine to be always offensive.
A young girl in V. A. D. uniform ran lightly across the lawn. "Why, Cynthia, you are late to-day. This is Mr. Hastings Miss Murdoch." Cynthia Murdoch was a fresh-looking young creature, full of life and vigour. She tossed off her little V. A. D. cap, and I admired the great loose waves of her auburn hair, and the smallness and whiteness of the hand she held out to claim her tea.
Many of the buildings had their titles still upon them. In one place I saw the blackened and almost illegible plate of a lawyer, in another a large still fresh-looking advertisement of a dentist, here there was the large lettering "Tobacconist," there upon a trembling wall the tattered remains of an announcement of a sale of furniture.
Next came a light, rustling spring up the creaking porch-steps, and ere the old gentleman could get his head far enough over his knees to see down the entry, a fresh-looking young woman appeared smiling in the door-way, dressed in a tawny summer-suit, and holding up in one hand a long, slender envelop, sealed with a conspicuous monogram, and stamped with the New York post-mark.
These are all the people you are likely to see. The balance of the population are asleep within doors, or abroad tending goats in the plains and on the hill-sides. The village is built on some consumptive little water-course, and about it is a little fresh-looking vegetation.
They were both shops and dwellings; I am sure of a neat pharmacy and a fresh-looking cafe restaurant, and one dwelling all faced with bright-green tiles. An alguazil I am certain he was an alguazil, though he looked like an Italian carabiniere and wore a cocked hat loitered into a police station; but I remember no one else during our brief stay in that street except those bouffe boy beggars.
On reaching the neighbourhood of Peckham, they struck off through a complex of small new streets, apparently familiar to Waymark, and came at length to a little shop, also very new, the windows of which displayed a fresh-looking assortment of miscellaneous goods.
"Why," he cried, "it isn't Loudon Dodd?" "Myself, my dear fellow," replied Mr. Dodd, springing to his feet with companionable alacrity. "I had a half-hope it might be you, when I found your name on the papers. Well, there's no change in you; still the same placid, fresh-looking Britisher." "I can't return the compliment; for you seem to have become a Britisher yourself," said Havens.
Walpole praises it, and so does Keats. "We removed here," writes the latter in 1819 to Bailey, "for the convenience of a library, and find it an exceedingly pleasant town, enriched with a beautiful cathedral and surrounded by fresh-looking country.... Within these two months I have written fifteen hundred lines, most of which, besides many more of prior composition, you will probably see next winter.
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