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Updated: June 26, 2025
The friends had spent the gayest of evenings together at a small green-topped table in one corner of the smoky cafe. Over their beer and cheese they had chatted of old days at boarding-school and college, and this contact with the large, healthy nature of Flemming, which threw off depression as sunshine dissipates mist, had sent Lynde's vapors flying.
The house is situated on a little wooded plateau that overlooks the lake, and back of it the solemn and everlasting hills stand guard. There are no such mountains here as one sees in Switzerland, overpowering, vast, awful in their majesty; but just green-topped, self-sufficient and friendly hills that invite you to lift up your eyes and be strong.
I worked at a commodious green-topped table placed directly in front of the west window which looked out over the prairie. In the corner at my right were all my books, in shelves I had made and painted myself. On the blank wall at my left the dark, old-fashioned wall-paper was covered by a large map of ancient Rome, the work of some German scholar.
Then taking up his brush, stood before his picture, smiling and frowning. Soon he had forgotten it all in his work. It was early morning four days later, and Harz was loitering homewards. The shadows of the clouds passing across the vines were vanishing over the jumbled roofs and green-topped spires of the town.
"Denny Bolton, from Boltonwood or or I reckon you've never heard of that place. I'm down from the hill country, back in the north," he supplemented. Hogarty turned away turned back to the green-topped table and played the double-blank with delicate precision. "Of course," he agreed softly. "Quite right quite right!
"Even ash, I do thee pluck, Hoping thus to meet good luck; If no good luck I get from thee, I shall wish thee on the tree." And there is the following well-known couplet: "With a four-leaved clover, a double-leaved ash, and a green-topped leave, You may go before the queen's daughter without asking leave."
Daley's study was lighted but empty. Satisfying himself on the latter point, Steve turned to go out. Then, reflecting that, since the instructor had left the lights on, he was probably coming right back, he decided to await him. He seated himself in a chair near the big green-topped table. Almost under his hand lay a blue-book, and in idle curiosity Steve leaned forward and looked at it.
I worked at a commodious green-topped table placed directly in front of the west window which looked out over the prairie. In the corner at my right were all my books, in shelves I had made and painted myself. On the blank wall at my left the dark, old-fashioned wall-paper was covered by a large map of ancient Rome, the work of some German scholar.
It was called a cigar store because it dealt in magazines, newspapers, soft drinks, golf balls, cigarettes, pool, billiards, chocolates, chewing gum, and cigars. In the rear of the store were four green-topped tables, three for pool and one for billiards. He hung about aimlessly, watching the game at the one occupied table.
It was the evening of the second day of school and Clint and Amy Byrd were preparing lessons at opposite sides of the green-topped table in Number 14 Torrence. "That," replied Amy, leaning back until his chair protested and viewing his room-mate under the shade of the drop-light, "is music." "Music!" Clint listened incredulously.
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