United States or United States Virgin Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
I knew the program was a fine one, and Madam Valena is truly a most charming person." "Indeed she is," assented Randy, "and she looked so queenly, I never thought she would really talk to me, but oh, do you know that she was once a little country girl? When I looked at her I could not imagine it."
There were iced drinks in tall glasses a litter of cigarettes on smoking-stands, magazines and newspapers on the stone floors, packs of cards on a small table. Oscar, hunched up in a high-backed Chinese chair, was white and miserable. George looked bored to extinction. Randy, coming in, gave a clear-cut impression of strength and youth. "Mother sent some wine jelly for Mrs.
The dinner was a simple one, but to Randy the room with its fine furnishings, the rare flowers in the centre of the table, the noiseless tread of the servant with his silver salver, the soft light from the great chandelier, all seemed a part of the fairyland of which she had so often read in the old volume of "Grimm's Tales" at home.
Nina's card was fastened to the frame with a bit of ribbon, and upon the card appeared this message: "You now see that I can be with you always." "Nina knew that I would rather have her picture than any other thing," said Randy. How swiftly the hours flew! At noon the car was very warm, for it was late in May, and it seemed almost like June sunshine which lay in long bars upon the red plush seats.
Before Clay or Randy could reply a man came briskly through the trees the miller beyond a doubt, for his clothes and hat were white with flour. He greeted the boys with a smile and a cherry nod. "I guess you're the chaps I was just starting out to find," he said. "T'other young chap was getting anxious about you, and not much wonder.
In the neighbourhood of the suburban village of Bridgeton, near Glasgow, there lived, a good many years ago, a worthy man, and an excellent weaver, of the name of Thomas Callender, and his wife, a bustling, active woman, but, if anything, a little of what is called the randy. We have said that Thomas's occupation was the loom.
The fact that it would involve a change of faith was thrashed over flamingly by Randy. "It is all very well for an old woman, Becky. But you'd hate it." Becky had been sure that she would not hate it. "You don't know how lovely she looks in the chapel." "Well, there are other ways to look lovely." "But it would be nice to be good." "You are good enough." "I am not really, Randy.
"Make tracks, you villains," he shouted, "or I'll put daylight through you." The thunderous report was followed by a yell of pain, and two voices hissed out dire threats of vengeance as the baffled men went hastily down the slope. As Randy turned toward his companions Batters sprang at him and wrenched the weapon from his hands. "Didn't I tell you not to shoot?" he cried.
"Ma got a letter last night when she rode over to the Centre, and Aunt Drusilla writes that she's coming to make us a three months' visit, and she's going to bring little Hi with her. And yesterday morning pa said that Grandma Babson was a coming to make her home with us, so you might guess, Randy, that Jemima and I'll have to step lively and help ma a bit."
"I could ascertain the depth for you in a minute." "We don't need it," replied Randy. "I was never in better wind than I am now. If there's a bottom at all I'll find it." The boat was now one hundred feet below the rock, and a stroke or two of Ned's paddle put it in line with the big buttonwood tree on the right shore.
Word Of The Day