United States or British Indian Ocean Territory ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
I watched him till he disappeared in the darkness beyond the house-porch. Meanwhile Miss Belcher had been calling to clear away the supper and set the tables for cards. "Nonsense, Lydia!" Mr. Rogers objected. "It's a good one-in-the-morning, and the company tired.
About ten minutes later, we were sitting under the house-porch it was narrow and deep, as is the fashion in those parts, and boarded up the sides breast high I was lighting a sullen pipe, hoping to deaden the hungry cravings which could not be satisfied, when I felt my arm pulled violently; a hoarse whisper said in my ear, "By G d, they've got us," and turning, I met the good Walter's face, white, and convulsed with emotions which I care not to define or remember.
They had almost reached the entrance gate of Culvercoombe before he reduced the affronted horse to a trot, and Doctor Glasson, who had been clutching the rail of the dog-cart in acutest physical terror, had no nerve as yet to resume the conversation. A couple of aged mastiff bitches mothers in their time, and now great-grandmothers, of a noble race lay sunning themselves before the house-porch.
I found it, and they mastered all the monarchs in a day or two. The idea was to make them SEE the reigns with their eyes; that would be a large help. We were at the farm then. From the house-porch the grounds sloped gradually down to the lower fence and rose on the right to the high ground where my small work-den stood. A carriage-road wound through the grounds and up the hill.
Thelma saw it, standing under her house-porch, where her father had joined her, Sigurd saw it, he had come out from some thicket where he had been hiding, and he now sat, in a humble, crouching posture at Thelma's feet. All three were silent, reverently watching the spreading splendor of the heavens. Once Gueldmar addressed his daughter in a soft tone. "Thou are happy, my bird?"
As he went, by day or night, in rain or fog or burning sun, by the margins of turgid south-western rivers, where his "leaders" shied at the alligators asleep in the stage-road; through dreary pine woods, where the owls hooted at silence; over red, reedy, slimy causeways; in cane-breaks and bayous; past villages where civilization looked westward with a dirk between its teeth, and cracked its horsewhip; past rich plantations where the negroes sang afield, and the planter in the house-porch took off his hat to bow here, there, always, everywhere, with his cold, hard, pock-marked face, thin lips and spotted eye, Auburn Risque sat brooding behind the reins, computing, calculating, overreaching, waiting for his destiny to wrestle with Chance and bind it down while its pockets were picked.
So it was not because her mind shrank from these memories of her married life that it conjured back again the scent of the honeysuckles on the house-porch that looked on the garden with the sundial on the wall above it, its welcome to that of the June roses; its dissension with the flavour of the damp weeds that clung to the time-worn timbers of the water-wheel, or that of the grinding flour when the wind blew from the mill, and carried with it from the ventilators some of the cloud that could not help forward the whitening of the roof.
Word Of The Day