United States or Tanzania ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Oh, no," Alicia told him sweetly, "we're laying out a chicken-run." "Er what I came over to say, is that I've got some fine bulbs, myself, this year, particularly fine bulbs eh, Schmetz? and more than I need for myself. Will you share them with me, Miss Smith? Please! I well, I'd be really grateful if you would," said this overgrown boy. "We'll be enchanted," Alicia said instantly.
Doctor Geddes made me spend my days in the garden that Schmetz had labored upon with such loving-kindness, and that in consequence was become a marvel of bloom and scent. Every butterfly in South Carolina must have visited that garden. I hadn't known there were that many butterflies in the world.
The good old Jew nodded his head vigorously at the girl, smiled, and went back to his work. And Schmetz came and finished the bulb bed by covering it carefully with two thicknesses of chicken-wire. That night, just before we went up-stairs, I went into the library after Freeman Hynds's diary, which we were simply burning to read. I opened the table drawer in which I had placed it.
"Straight out of the pit; undoubtedly they were hatched under Satan's wings. Monsieur, believe me, Schmetz, when I tell you so." "Didn't you ask me," I demanded, "to throw them over into your yard when they invaded my premises? Very well: I threw one over and you caught it. Why, then, should you complain?" "Oh, yes, I caught it!" A horrible sneer twisted his countenance.
A few days later Doctor Geddes sent us Schmetz, the gardener, a gnarled little man with a peppery temper, a torrential flow of Alsatian French, and a tireless energy. I don't know why nor how Schmetz had come to Hyndsville, except that somehow he had acquired a small farm near by and couldn't get away from it.
"Thank you," said the voice. There had been a great space cleared in our garden, and on the edge of this, in removing a stubborn gum-tree, the negroes had uncovered what they supposed to be the body of one murdered. Upon our knees, with Schmetz helping us, we were trying to tear away the rotten coverings, and the dirt and mold.
A second later, red-faced, half-breathless, but with the light of battle in his eyes, Doctor Geddes appeared, mounted on a ladder on his side of the hedge. "Who shot off that rooster?" "Monsieur le docteur, the hens of you began this affray," explained Schmetz, politely. "They are fowls abandoned in their morals, horrible in their habits, and shameless in their behavior.
Schmetz brought us our upholsterer, Riedriech the cabinet-maker, most cunning of craftsmen, who knew all there is to know about old furniture and just what should and shouldn't be done to it.
I have dug from the earth the leetle boy of stone you know him, hein? Those niggers, sacrement! they think they have uncovered the deceased corpse, the victim of Madame the late mistress, with which she made her spells of a sorceress." "What!" said the voice. "You've found the statue, Schmetz? Ask, my good fellow, if it is permitted that I come and view it." "Why, of course!" said I, quickly.
And the husband of these wretches, Monsieur, is a bandit, a brigand, an assassin, fit only to be guillotined. Observe, Monsieur, it happened thus " "Schmetz," snapped the doctor, "shut up! Now then, I want to know who fired off that rooster." "I did!" I said valiantly. "Look at my bulbs! Just look at my bulbs!" "Look at my stomach!" roared the doctor. "Just look at my stomach!" "Mon Dieu!
Word Of The Day