Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: October 28, 2025
Then he sank down upon one of the upping-stocks, snatched a hunk of bread, munched hastily. "Mr. Allen, you've no cheese. Here, let me fill your glass again. How's Rodchurch?" Every time that Mavis passed, she asked a question. "Mr. Allen, how's Miss Waddy's sister?" "Dead," said Allen, with his mouth full. "Dead. Oh, that's sad!" Then next time it was: "How's Miss Yorke? Not married yet?"
And there was the bold flight that he had determined on for wind-up. This had come as an inspiration, down there at Rodchurch over a fortnight ago, and had been cherished ever since. "Your Grace, taking the liberty under this head of speaking as man to man, I ask: If you had been situated as I was, wouldn't you have done as I done?"
Dale was held by the whole neighborhood. Secretly subscriptions had been collected for the purpose of giving Mr. Dale a testimonial, and at a very large meeting in the Rodchurch Schoolroom, it was presented by one of the most important local gentlemen. "Mr.
The carter stopped the horses outside the garden entrance. "Will the missis get down here at th' front door, or be us to go on into yaard?" Mrs. Dale got down here, took the cat-basket from her husband, and went gaily up the path to the open front door. "Don't let th' cat loose," Dale called after her warningly, "or she'll be back to Rodchurch like a streak o' greased lightning.
"Prettiest part of the world that I know of," he said proudly. "You spend your next holiday there. Take the four-horse sharrybank from Rodhaven pier and when you get to the Roebuck at Rodchurch, you get off of the vehicle and ask for the Postmaster." "Yes, sir?" "He won't eat you," and Dale laughed with intense enjoyment of his humor.
Creech there were certain business arrangements now under negotiation, and it was impossible to avoid speaking of them. Dale, however, cut their chat as short as possible, and directly he had shaken off Mr. Creech he walked away briskly toward Rodchurch. He had intended to arrive at the Baptist Chapel before the evening service began, but now he was late.
Mavis had bought a cheap blue veil to protect her face, and being, moreover, fortunate enough to find an empty compartment in the through coach to Rodchurch Road, she did not suffer during the journey from too curious observation of strangers. She was going home, exactly as if nothing had happened. Her husband had said that she was to go, and what else could she do but obey him?
The overalls were rolled in an unobtrusive brown-paper parcel to be carried under the arm; and, having paid for his bedroom, he went out at about eight o'clock, walking boldly through the streets just as Mr. Dale of Rodchurch, dressed in blue serge and not in his best black coat Mr.
But the picture was gone, the dream was broken, the hope was darkened. He tried to bring it all back again, and failed utterly. He could not think of Christ riding into Jerusalem; he could only think of Norah walking along the road to Rodchurch. Extreme heat came that year with the opening of July, and the atmosphere at night seemed as oppressive as in the day.
Mavis warned Dale that he would get a sousing, when he told her that he was obliged to go as far as Rodchurch. "Won't it do to-morrow, Will?" "No, I shan't have time to-morrow. Remember I'm not made of barley-sugar. I shouldn't melt, you know, even if I hadn't got my mack." Norah fetched him his foul weather hat, and ran for his umbrella.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking