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Updated: June 12, 2025
But Larcom was not equal to it, for the wind was rising and blowing in several directions at once. "No goal! The game is a tie!" "Put the ball out again!" "Only four minutes to play!" Again the football went forth, and again the crowd pounced upon it. The Pornellites were now desperate and massed themselves as never before. They pushed forward ten yards fifteen twenty almost thirty.
He became interested one morning in a plan proposed to him for making a collection of poems for young people, one which he finally completed with the aid of Miss Lucy Larcom. We got down from the shelf Longfellow's "Poets and Poetry of Europe," and looked it over together.
Lucy Larcom and the authors of The Lowell Offering portrayed the fine idealism of the young women of the best American stock who went enthusiastically to work in the cotton-mills of Lowell and Lawrence, or who bound shoes by their own firesides on the Essex County farms. That glow of enthusiasm for labor was chiefly moral, but it was poetical as well.
Larcom, I think you have been led into an erroneous conclusion. Indeed, I may mention I have reason to think so in fact, to know that such is the case. What you mention to me, you know, as a friend of the family, and holding, as I do, a confidential position in fact, a very confidential one alike in relation to Mr.
That scoundrel, Larcom, knew perfectly it was meant for me. He was on the point of speaking his mind, which would hardly have been pleasant to hear, upon this piece of detective impertinence of his wife's. He could have smashed all the glass upon the table. But he looked serene, and leaned back with the corner of Rachel's note between two fingers.
Larcom, about to announce Miss Lake, and closely followed by that young lady, passed the grim old phantom on the lobby. 'Be quick, you are wanted there, said the attendant as he passed. Dorcas, pale as marble, sighing deeply again and again, her rich black hair drenched in water, which trickled over her cheeks, like the tears and moisture of agony, was recovering.
Wylder and to the family of Brandon Hall, is of course sacred; and anything that comes from you, Mr. Larcom, is never heard in connection with your name beyond these walls.
It is a meeting, thought Mr. Larcom, taking courage, for he already felt something of the confidence and superiority of possessing a secret; and as quickly as might be, the trustworthy man, with his latch-key in his pocket, softly opened the portal through which the object of his anxiety had just emerged, closed the door behind him, and stood listening intently in the recess of the entrance, where he heard the now more careless step of the captain, treading, as he thought, the broad yew-walk, which turns at a right angle at the foot of the terrace step.
I only know for certain, I took it so; and I do believe as how Mr. Mark Wylder is confined in a mad-house, and the captain knows all about it, and won't do nothing to get him out. 'H'm very odd very strange; but it is only from the general tenor of what passed, by a sort of guess work, you have arrived at that conclusion? Larcom assented. 'Well, Mr.
When I walked a lane, or saw the sloping roof of a house set against a hillside I thought of Whittier or Hawthorne and was silent. The sea reminded me of Celia Thaxter or Lucy Larcom. The marshes brought up the Wayside Inn of Longfellow; all, all was of the past. New England, rich with its memories of great men and noble women, had no direct inspiration for me, a son of the West.
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