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Updated: June 7, 2025
I am sure of this, at least, that I should rather be a steamship than a sailing vessel, that only goes when a wind blows. A recent writer tells in one of his books of an experience he had as a boy when he went on a fishing-trip with his father. They were wading along in brooks with their rubber-boots on.
She put on her rubber-boots, because it took so long to lace up her boots. Her stockings she wore upon her arms. The reason appeared to be, that she might not get her hands wet in pulling Winnie out. She stopped to put on her sack, her turban, and her blue veil.
In the main, the father had merely to understand, to be at one with the boy.... It happened that we were alone in the Chapel at that time. I reached for the rubber-boots. "I'll ride as far as town and put the horse up," said I. "Meet me at the far-end in a half-hour and we'll start the hike from there." He was off at once.
She now noticed for the first time that one stocking was drawn up over her hand, the other she had probably lost on the way, and that she had put her bare feet into rubber-boots. The lace collar was fastened by a bit of green chenille she sometimes wore at her throat, and which had doubtless been the snake of her dream.
"I'll lower the water in your milk-house now, Mother Hart," he promised lightly, "so you won't have to wear rubber-boots when you go to skim the milk." He gave Evadna a quick, sidelong glance as she came into the room, and pushed back his chair. "I'll get at it right away," he said cheerfully, picked up his hat, and went out whistling. Then he put his head in at the door.
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