Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 5, 2025
These songs have been collected in Scotland by Scott and Motherwell; their Danish counterparts have been translated by Mr. Prior. In Greece, M. Fauriel and Dr. Ulrichs; in Provence, Damase Arbaud; in Italy, M. Nigra; in Servia, Talvj; in France, Gerard de Nerval have done for their separate countries what Scott did for the Border.
Her eyes were restless and expectant; she listened eagerly to every sound. A step is at the door, a hand is on the latch. The old woman rises uncertainly, a great hope in her eyes it is the letter the letter at last. The door opens, and the old woman falls cowering and moaning, and wringing her hands before the man who enters. It is the officer! Mrs. Motherwell buried her face in her hands.
A few weeks after Arthur's arrival, Mrs. Motherwell called him from the barn, where he sat industriously mending bags, to unhitch her horse from the buggy. She had just driven home from Millford. Nobody had taken the trouble to show Arthur how it was done. "Any fool ought to know," Mr. Motherwell said. Arthur came running from the barn with his hat in his hand.
The next morning before Mrs. Motherwell appeared Pearl and Tom decided upon the plan of campaign. Pearl was to get his Sunday clothes taken to the bluff in the pasture field, sometime during the day. Then in the evening Tom would retire early, watch his chance, slip out the front door, make his toilet on the bluff, and then, oh bliss! away to Edythe.
Francis took out her little red book to enter the result of her experiment, and sat looking long and earnestly at its pages. Then she drew a writing pad toward her and wrote an illuminative article on "Late Hours a Frequent and Fruitful Cause of Irritability in Children." Mr. Samuel Motherwell was a wealthy farmer who lived a few miles from Millford. Photographs of Mr.
But he and his songs are still lovingly remembered by the boys who "follow the mill," when their thoughts run upon old times. Peter and Fred Slater came in with the coffee. Jim Russell with a white apron around his neck followed with a basket of sandwiches, and Tom Motherwell with a heaping plate of cake. "Did you make this cake, Nell?"
Well, I had to stop her at last," Mrs. Motherwell would tell you with an apologetic swallow, which showed that even generous people have to be firm sometimes in the discharge of unpleasant duties. "And, mind you," Mrs.
Motherwell and Tom had gone to their own rooms, she built up the kitchen fire, and heated a frying-pan full of salt, with which she filled a pair of her own stockings and brought them to Arthur. She remembered that her mother had done that when her father was sick, and that it had eased his pain.
They would get her. And get ten dollars' worth of work out of her if they could. The next Saturday night John Watson announced to his family that old Sam Motherwell wanted Pearlie to go out and work off the caboose debt. Mrs. Watson cried, "God help us!" and threw her apron over her head. "Who'll keep the dandrew out of me hair?" Mary said tearfully, "if Pearlie goes away?"
He would soon spot the trouble. After dinner, of which Arthur ate scarcely a mouthful, as Pearl was cleaning the knives, Mrs. Motherwell came into the kitchen with a hard look on her face. She had just missed a two-dollar bill from her satchel. "Pearl," she said in a strained voice, "did you see a two-dollar bill any place?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking