United States or Chad ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Here is this girl, Sir, was coming to me a little while ago, complaining that she wanted something fresh, and begging me to take her back to Queechy, forsooth, to find it with two feet of snow on the ground. Who wants to see you at Queechy?" he said, facing round upon her with a look half fierce, half quizzical.
Fleda was growing very industrious and feeling her cheeks grow warm, when the checked stream of conversation began to take revenge by turning its tide upon her. "Are you glad to be back to Queechy, Fleda?" said Mrs. Douglass, from the opposite far end of the quilt. "Yes Ma'am," said Fleda, smiling back her answer "on some accounts."
"You horrid little creature!" said Constance, "why didn't you come straight to our house? just think of the injurious suspicions you have exposed us to! to say nothing of the extent of fiction we have found ourselves obliged to execute. I didn't expect it of you, little Queechy." Fleda kept her pale face quiet on the pillow, and only smiled her incredulous curiosity.
Rossitur's, down to Queechy." "Mr. Rossitur's!" said Mrs. Evelyn. "Does he send them here?" "He doos not," said Philetus "he doosn't keep to hum for a long spell." "Who does send them, then?" said Constance. "Who doos? It's Miss Fliddy Ringgan." "Mamma!" exclaimed Constance, looking up. "What does she have to do with it?" said Mrs. Evelyn.
Barby sobbed for a few minutes, with the strength of a strong nature that rarely gave way in that manner; and then dashed her tears right and left, not at all as if she were ashamed of them, but with a resolution not to be overcome. "There won't be nothing good left in Queechy, when you're gone, you and Mis' Plumfield without I go and look at the place where Hugh lies "
Fleda replied that it was. "I shouldn't wonder if it was a'most as far as from here to Queechy Run, now; aint it?" The distance mentioned being somewhere about one-eighth of New York's longest diameter, Fleda answered that it was quite as far. "I s'pose there's plenty o' mighty rich folks there, aint there?" "Plenty, I believe," said Fleda.
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.
"It's a not far from Queechy Run," said the doctor, whose now and then hesitation in the midst of his speech was never for want of a thought, but simply and merely for the best words to clothe it in. "Is it in our way to-night?" He could make it so, the doctor said, with pleasure, for it would give him permission to gallant them a little further.
Come sit down, and let me see whether you have forgotten a Queechy appetite." "I don't know," said Fleda doubtfully, "they will expect me at home." "I don't care who expects you sit down! you ain't going to eat any bread and butter this morning but my mother's you haven't got any like it at your house. Mother, give her a cup of coffee, will you, and set her to work."
"How are you all at home, Dr. Quackenboss?" "All Queechy, Sir," answered the doctor, politely, on the principle of 'first come, first served' "and individuals I shouldn't like to specify" "How are you all in Queechy, Dr. Quackenboss?" said Fleda. "I have the pleasure to say we are coming along as usual," replied the doctor, who seemed to have lost his power of standing up straight.
Word Of The Day