United States or Austria ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Fine," said his father, whereupon Bob handed him a glass of rich milk. "Not as good as Gurney's, but pretty good at that," remarked his father. "I've heard about the prizes you and your Uncle Joe have won and couldn't help but come in and look you over, even, though I'm very busy and it was hard to get away." "How did you leave mother and the rest of the family?" was Bob's next inquiry.
As Shakspeare says, their defection would be like "another fall of man." We went back to Mr. Gurney's to lunch, and then, as the afternoon was fine, Mr. and Mrs. Gurney drove with us in their carriage to Pembroke Lodge, the country seat of Lord John Russell.
"I learned to do that selling chickens and keeping account of the milk Gurney gives." "Don't you keep a record of the milk all your cows give?" asked Mr. Dow. "Oh, Gurney is our cow at home not one of Uncle Joe's cows. Gurney's a purebred with a pedigree," he declared proudly. "When are you going to start keeping a record of the cows on the farm, Bob?" asked the banker.
Gurney's parlor, and as they lingered over the last words, Dexie seated herself at the piano, and there was no quiver in her voice, though there were tears in her eyes, as she sang: "Farewell, farewell, is a lonely sound, And always brings a sigh; Then give to me, when loved ones part, That good old word, 'Good-bye."
It was so bad, so unintelligible, that she actually cried over it, and when she heard Miss Gurney's step, she carried it off to her bedroom and locked the door. Miss Gurney was after her in an instant. "How are you getting on with your paper, dear? Can I be of any help?" She did finish it at last, and gave it to Mr. Amery. She knew it was bad, but she was too ignorant to know quite how bad.
Then he undid the string of it with his large awkward fingers, and pushed the stool across to David. 'Theer's sixty pund theer, Davy sixty pund! Yo can keawnt it it's aw reet. A've saved it for yo, this four year four year coom lasst Michaelmas Day. Hannah nor nobory knew owt abeawt it. But it's yourn it's yor share, being t' half o' Mr. Gurney's money.
Professor Gurney was one of the leading reformers, and had tried his hand on his own department of History. The two full Professors of History Torrey and Gurney, charming men both could not cover the ground. Between Gurney's classical courses and Torrey's modern ones, lay a gap of a thousand years, which Adams was expected to fill.
Hannah was standing over the open drawer of an old-fashioned corner cupboard, carefully scanning a letter and enclosure before she locked them up. 'Is 't Mr. Gurney's money? Reuben said to her, in a queer voice. She was startled, not having heard him come in, but she put what she held into the drawer all the more deliberately, and turned the key. 'Ay, 't is.
Gurney says it won't hurt you if you like it, and he says it'll kill you if you go back and hate it; so it looks as if it was about up to you not to hate it. Well, Gurney's a fool! Hatin' work doesn't kill anybody; and this isn't goin' to kill you, whether you hate it or not. I've never made a mistake in a serious matter in my life, and it wasn't a mistake my sendin' you there in the first place.
J.J. Gurney's communication was particularly precious; he also paid a consoling visit to the family after dinner. We shall conclude this chapter with some reflections made by John Yeardley, on reviewing the changes which death had produced in the circle of his relations: 1835. 1 mo. 31.
Word Of The Day