United States or Cyprus ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
This sort of thing, kept up for an hour or so at a time, used to drive me nearly wild. But Euphemia did not mind it. I believe that she had so delicate a sense of what was proper, that she did not hear Pomona's private readings. On one occasion, even Euphemia's influence could scarcely restrain me from violent interference.
True, the boarder was away, but, as Pomona remarked, when she heard about him, "You couldn't always expect to ever regain the ties that had always bound everybody." Our delight and interest in our little farm increased day by day. In a week or two after Pomona's arrival I bought a cow.
The book-reading public cared so much for this book that it would not remain satisfied with it alone. Again and again it demanded of the author more about Pomona, Euphemia, and Jonas. Hence The Rudder Grangers Abroad and Pomona's Travels. The most famous of Mr. Stockton's stories, The Lady or the Tiger?, was written to be read before a literary society of which he was a member.
"Weren't you dreadfully angry at him?" asked Euphemia, who, having a romantic streak in her own composition, did not sympathize altogether with this heroic remedy for Pomona's disease. "No, ma'am," said Pomona, "not long. When I thought of Mrs.
We were somewhat relieved by Pomona's statement that it was "all right" in regard to the tax-poster, but we were very anxious to know all about the matter. Pomona, however, gave us little chance to ask her any questions.
Pomona had said it was all right, but she could not have paid the taxes however, I would wait; and I went to the barn. When Euphemia came in from the poultry-yard, she called me and said she was in a hurry to hear Pomona's account of things. So I went in, and we sat on the side porch, where it was shady, while Pomona, producing some sheets of foolscap paper, took her seat on the upper step.
He had met her at the park gate, and had driven her over to catch the early train at Stowmarket. Then it appeared, too, that, by degrees, various articles of her property had been conveyed to Mr Batherbolt's lodgings in the adjacent village, so that Lady Pomona's fear that Georgiana would not have a thing to wear was needless.
Oh, I see; drawing Francie, who sits as stiff as a Saint of Burne-Jones! Well, I'll have an eye to them! Vera! Have you finished Rudder Grange?" "Not quite. I can't make out who Lord Edward was." "Why, the big dog! Did you think he was Pomona's hero?" "I don't know. Wasn't Pomona very silly?"
The poet is describing the Island of Love: "... here each gift Pomona's hand bestows In cultured garden, free uncultured flows, The flavor sweeter and the hue more fair Than e'er was fostered by the hand of care. The cherry here in shining crimson glows, And stained with lovers' blood, in pendent rows, The mulberries o'erload the bending boughs."
"But, my poor Pomona," said Euphemia, "you don't suppose that little child could be of any use to an opera singer; at least, not for years and years." "Oh, yes, ma'am," replied Pomona; "she was none too little. Sopranners is like mocking-birds; they've got to be took young." No arguments could shake Pomona's belief in this theory.
Word Of The Day