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For the next half-hour the dialogue ran after this fashion, while Peter and Felix and I, and even the Story Girl, suffered agonies trying to smother our bursts of laughter for Great-aunt Eliza could see if she couldn't hear: CECILY, SHOUTING: "That is Mr. Joseph Elliott of Markdale, a second cousin of mother's." DAN: "Don't brag of it, Sis.
We foregathered in the balsam-fragrant aisles of the fir wood, and ate early August apples to such an extent that the Story Girl said we made her think of the Irishman's pig. "An Irishman who lived at Markdale had a little pig," she said, "and he gave it a pailful of mush. The pig at the whole pailful, and then the Irishman put the pig IN the pail, and it didn't fill more than half the pail.
"Well, I suppose your mind will be at rest now," said Felicity. "What's that you have in your buttonhole?" "That's a four-leaved clover," answered Peter exultantly. "That means good luck for the summer. I found it in Markdale. There ain't much clover in Carlisle this year of any kind of leaf. The crop is going to be a failure.
I was brought up to believe that a hole was an accident but a patch was a disgrace. And so your Aunt Olivia is going to be married after all?" This was news to us. We felt and looked dazed. "I never heard anything of it," said the Story Girl. "Oh, it's true enough. She's a great fool. I've no faith in husbands. But one good thing is she ain't going to marry that Henry Jacobs of Markdale.
The keenest edge to our humiliation was given by the discovery that the magic seed was nothing more or less than caraway, which grew in abundance at Billy Robinson's uncle's in Markdale. Peg Bowen had had nothing to do with it. Well, we had all been badly hoaxed. But we did not trumpet our wrongs abroad. We did not even call Billy to account.
But if you want your money to go to a Methodist missionary you can give it to the Methodist minister at Markdale. I guess the Presbyterians can get along without it, and look after their own heathen." "Just smell Mrs. Sampson's flowers," said Cecily, as we passed a trim white paling close to the road, over which blew odours sweeter than the perfume of Araby's shore.
James Frewen came to tea and there was no pie in the house. Felicity has not yet fully recovered. A new boy is coming to school. His name is Cyrus Brisk and his folks moved up from Markdale. He says he is going to punch Willy Fraser's head if Willy keeps on thinking he is Miss Cecily King's beau. Miss Alice Reade of Charlottetown Royalty has come to Carlisle to teach music. She boards at Mr.
The crews of most of the vessels that went ashore on the sand beaches were saved, but those that struck on the rocks went to pieces and all hands were lost. For weeks after the storm the north shore was strewn with the bodies of drowned men. Think of it! Many of them were unknown and unrecognizable, and they were buried in Markdale graveyard. Mr.
He swore a wicked oath that he would sail out of Markdale Harbour that night and 'God Almighty Himself shouldn't catch him. He did sail out of the harbour; and the storm did catch him, and the Seth Hall went down with all hands, the dead and the living finding a watery grave together. So the poor old mother up in Maine never had her boys brought back to her after all. Mr.
"Amen," cried Felix, who had suffered many things because Felicity so often made faces at him. Peter stopped and glared at him over the edge of the Pulpit Stone. "You haven't any business to call out a thing like that right in the middle of a sermon," he said. "They do it in the Methodist church at Markdale," protested Felix, somewhat abashed. "I heard them." "I know they do.
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