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Updated: June 25, 2025
It was between eight and nine in the evening, and since morning a fine rain had fallen steadily. But no stress of weather could have kept Rosella at home that evening. A week previous she had sent to Trevor the type-written copy of the completed "Patroclus," and tonight she was to call for the manuscript and listen to his suggestions and advice.
And the blind missionary said, "Bless the dear girl and boy who have cut peaches for two whole months to help send the gospel to heathen children!" Then Rosella, being honest, could not bear to have the missionary think it had been two months instead of one, and she suddenly burst out, half-crying, and said, "O, I wasn't so good as that!
Rosella could not yet live wholly by her pen, and thought herself fortunate when the house offered her the position of reader. This arrival of hers was no doubt to be hastened, if not actually assured, by the publication of her first novel, "Patroclus," upon which she was at this time at work.
It is a useful fruit for home consumption, as it stews well, makes an excellent jam, and its jelly is one of the best. The rosella, a species of hibiscus, is an annual fruit that is grown to a considerable extent in several parts of the State, and is used for pies, jams, and jellies.
Why, Drew Hopkins, I haven't acted as though I cared whether the heathen boys and girls knew about Jesus or not! I'm going to work to fill my mite box. Why, Drew, Louie Ming's box is most full, and she used to be a heathen!" Drew nodded, and hugged baby brother tighter. The next Monday Rosella and Drew began working hard cutting fruit. How they cut fruit the remaining month! How they saved!
You have told merely the story, have narrated episodes in their sequence of time, and where the episodes have stopped there you have ended the book. The whole animus that should have put the life into it is gone, or, if it is not gone, it is so perverted that it is incorrigible. To my mind the book is a failure." Rosella did not answer when Trevor ceased speaking, and there was a long silence.
At our last camp, I observed a Platycercus, of the size of the Moreton Bay Rosella, with blackfront, yellow shoulders, and sea-green body; the female had not the showy colours of the male, and the young ones were more speckled on the back. I believe it to be the Platycercus Brownii, GOULD. A black and white Ptilotis, the only stuffed specimen of which was taken by a kite almost out of Mr.
She went through her meager and unimportant mail, wrote a few replies, and then turned to the pile of volunteer manuscripts which it was her duty to read and report upon. For Rosella was Conant's "reader," and so well was she acquainted with the needs of the house, so thorough was she in her work, and so great was the reliance upon her judgment, that she was the only one employed.
Louie Ming was putting her money into her mite box, and did not notice Rosella and Drew. "Why-ee!" whispered Rosella. "See there! Why, Drew! I do believe Louie Ming's putting every bit of her pay into her mite box! Do you suppose she knows what she's doing?" Rosella and Drew stood watching. "Do you suppose Louie Ming understands?" whispered Rosella again. "Why, she's giving it all!
The evening before, she had read the draft of the story to Trevor, and even now, as she cut the string of the first manuscript of the pile, she was thinking over what Trevor had said of it, and smiling as she thought. It was through Conant that Rosella had met the great novelist and critic, and it was because of Conant that Trevor had read Rosella's first little book.
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