Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 14, 2025
It was snowing tiny flakes when Joel's eyes popped open, and the small, feathery things whirled against the little paned window, as if they would very much like to come in. "Dave Dave!" cried Joel, poking him, "get up it's snowing!" David's eyes flew quite wide at that, and he sat up at once. "Oh, Joel," he squealed, as he watched the flakes, "ain't they pretty!" "Um!
It was always Joel's ambition to catch a fish big enough to cook, but as the brook, a little tumbling stream over a few ragged rocks, on the edge of Deacon Brown's meadow lot, only held minnows, with an occasional turtle and frog, this had never as yet happened.
Nothing in Joel's expression indicated that he had even heard the commission, but his look of gloomy abstraction did not deceive his sister who was perfectly aware that he understood her request and would take a certain satisfaction in executing it.
Guided by the light, Joel led his oxen and the chariot entered the yard. Like all other rural homes, Joel's was spacious and round of shape. The walls consisted of two rows of hurdles, the space between which was filled with a mixture of beaten clay and straw; the inside and outside of the thick wall was plastered over with a layer of fine and fattish earth, which, when dry, was hard as sandstone.
All the while Dame Hansen and her daughter were watching him from one of the windows of the inn. What strange creature was this, and what could be the object of his visit? It was greatly to be regretted that all this took place during Joel's absence, especially as the eccentric individual was going to spend the night at the inn. "What if he is a madman?" said Hulda.
It can scarcely be truthfully asserted that Joel's lessons suffered by reason of his adherence to athletics, though a lecture now and then was slighted that he might use the time in pursuing some study that lack of leisure had necessitated his neglecting.
Then cries of "They're off!" were raised, and there was a general shoving and pushing for places of observation on the up-stream side of the structure, while along the banks the crowds began to move about again. It was Joel's first sight of a boat race, and he found himself becoming very excited, while West, veteran though he was, breathed a deal faster, and talked in disjointed monosyllables.
"What's the riot?" asked Livingston Bayley, sauntering up, and whirling his walking-stick, "eh?" "Joel's absconded," said Mr. Dyce briefly. "Eh?" "Gone back after Phronsie's box of dolls," explained somebody else. "Oh dear me," cried Alexia Rhys, trying to get near Polly, "just like that boy." She still called him that, in spite of his being a Harvard man, "He's always making some sort of a fuss."
"An' he's harmless," added Farlane. "We ain't agreed," rejoined Bostil, quickly. "What do you say, Holley?" The old rider looked thoughtful and did not speak for long. "Wal, Yes an' no," he answered, finally. "I reckon Lucy could make a man out of Joel. But she doesn't care fer him, an' thet settles thet.... An' maybe Joel's leanin' toward the bad."
But at the first squeak of the window being pushed up he disappeared around the corner. Joel's days were now become very busy ones. Every morning he was awakened at seven, and at eight was required to be on hand at the training table for breakfast.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking