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Updated: May 17, 2025
Skillcorn, who was at that moment standing with his hands on his sides, eyeing with concentrated gravity the movements of Earl Douglass and the doctor. "Don't shake your head at him!" said Fleda. "I wish you had come an hour earlier, Mr. Olmney." "Why?"
Olmney, "that you are not sorry to find yourself in Queechy again?" "I am not sorry to find myself in the woods again. That is not pitch, Mr. Olmney." "It has the same colour, and weight." "No, it is only wet see this and smell of it do you see the difference? Isn't it pleasant?" "Everything is pleasant to-day," said he smiling. "I shall report you a cure.
"Dear Barby," said Fleda, with softening eyes, "won't you be something good yourself?" Barby put up her hand to shield her face. Fleda was silent, for she saw that strong feeling was at work. "I wish't I could," Barby broke forth at last, "if it was only for your sake." "Dear Barby," said Fleda, "you can do this for me you can go to church, and hear what Mr. Olmney says.
Olmney; isn't it quite a wild looking scene, in that peculiar light, and with the snowy background? Look at Philetus now, with that bundle of sticks. Hugh, isn't he exactly like some of the figures in the old pictures of the martyrdoms, bringing billets to feed the fire? that old martyrdom of St. Lawrence whose was it Spagnoletto! at Mrs. Decatur's don't you recollect?
The doctor stared at her till she had done speaking, and then slunk out of her range of vision behind the curtains of the bed-post. Not silenced, however. "But a Mr. Olmney," said he, hesitating, "don't you think that there is in general a a becoming modesty, in a in people that have done wrong, as we all have putting off being sure until they are so? It seems so to me!"
Olmney isn't it quite a wild-looking scene, in that peculiar light and with the snowy background? Look at Philetus now with that bundle of sticks Hugh! isn't he exactly like some of the figures in the old pictures of the martyrdoms, bringing billets to feed the fire? that old martyrdom of St. Lawrence whose was it Spagnoletto! at Mrs. Decatur's don't you recollect? It is fine, isn't it, Mr.
They remained so a long time, even till Hugh left them; and then Fleda, released from her aunt's embrace, still crouched by her side with one arm in her lap. They both sat thoughtfully looking into the fire till it had burnt itself out, and nothing but a glowing bed of coals remained. "That is an excellent young man," said Mrs. Rossitur. "Who?" "Mr. Olmney.
And to him she talked perseveringly of the mountains, the country, and the people, till they reached the courtyard gate. Mr. Olmney then passed on. So did the doctor, though invited to tarry, averring that the sun had gone down behind the firmament, and he had something to attend to at home. "You will come in, Thorn," said Charlton.
Olmney? there's a better tonic to be found in the woods than in any remedies of man's devising." "Better than books?" said he. "Certainly! No comparison." "I have to learn that yet." "So I suppose," said Fleda. "The very danger to be apprehended, as I hear, Sir, is from your running a tilt into some of those thick folios of yours, head foremost.
"Dear Barby," said Fleda with softening eyes, "won't you be something good yourself?" Barby put up her hand to shield her face. Fleda was silent for she saw that strong feeling was at work. "I wish I could," Barby broke forth at last, "if it was only for your sake." "Dear Barby," said Fleda, "you can do this for me you can go to church and hear what Mr. Olmney says.
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