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Isabel had been down to carry a frosted cake to her little niece Ellen, for Ellen's share of the picnic at Poole's Woods. It was Fairfax day, when once a year all Fairfax went to the spot where the first settlers drank of the "b'ilin' spring" on their way to a clearing. "You goin'?" she called again, imperiously, and Ardelia answered, as if from some unwillingness: "I guess so."
"I should think your teacher would lose her taste for pretzels." "But I don't suppose Jacob understands," said Ruth, smiling. "Oh, Ruth!" cried Agnes, suddenly. "It's at Mr. Bloomer's where Carrie Poole's having her big party cake made. Lucy told me so. Lucy is Carrie's cousin, you know." "I heard about that party," said Tess. "It's going to be grand. Are you and Aggie going, Ruth?"
I left them January the 14th, and have spent a very pleasant week at Dr. Crompton's, at Liverpool, and arrived in London, at Poole's lodgings, last night at eight o'clock. Though my right hand is so much swollen that I can scarcely keep my pen steady between my thumb and finger, yet my stomach is easy, and my breathing comfortable, and I am eager to hope all good things of my health.
I hope your next will tell me that he is going to T. Poole's I have communicated none of your letters to Mrs. Coleridge, who you know resides with us. Her spirits and health are beginning to sink under it. God bless you. Yours affectionately, Robert Southey." After anxious consideration, I thought the only effectual way of benefitting Mr.
Poole's employees are bound to follow for ever the cloven pennon of the Perfect Pair of Trousers, it is all the more true that the pennon may, in point of fact, become imperfect. Granted that all Barney Barnato's workers ought to have followed him to death or glory, it is still a Perfectly legitimate question to ask which he was likely to lead them to. Granted that Dr.
"But I think we might do something. I believe in the old proverb. The gods help those who help themselves." That very week Mr. Mapleson called at my house to express the same idea. "What can we do to shut up Poole's?" said he. "It's dreadful. Half our young men spend half their evenings there lounging and drinking away their time."
The problem with which they first have to deal, therefore, is, how to make the men and the incidents and the cardinal points of our annals look as large to foreigners as they do to us. Many of our town-histories are written in the tone and style of Mr. Poole's "Little Pedlington," the epithet Little being suppressed in the title, but obtruded on every page.
I invite you all to visit Grace Poole's patient and my wife!" We passed up to the third storey, and there, in the deep shade of the inner room beyond the room where I had watched over the wounded Mason, ran backward and forward, seemingly on all fours, a figure, whether beast or human one could not at first sight tell. It snatched and growled like some wild animal.
'A long time has passed without your hearing from me, and I am sure you must have said more than once: "Well, that priest has more sense than I gave him credit for. He took the hint. He understood that it would be useless for us to continue to write long letters to each other about remorse of conscience and Mr. Poole's criticism of the Bible."
Gear, that would not be made a better workman, husband, father, citizen, for studying that life and those teachings one hour a week." "It is true," said he. "You organized a Shakspeare club last winter to keep them from Joe Poole's," said I. "Was it a good thing?" "Worked capitally," said Mr. Gear.
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