Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: September 19, 2025
You an' me is corn-field niggers, dat's all we is!" And with that irritable dejection that often follows self-sacrifice, Uncle Jimpson limped away with the subdued Mike skulking at his heels. As Mrs. Basil Sequin swept up the broad steps at Thornwood, she congratulated herself upon a duty about to be accomplished.
Gooch and the Ivys gladly availed themselves of the opportunity of fleeing from the stifling city to the cool shade of Thornwood.
It was as if a watering cart had suddenly and unexpectedly turned on its supply regardless of its surroundings. At five o'clock Miss Lady, very radiant and apparently in high spirits, presented herself at the Sequins'. "May I come in just for a minute?" she asked at Margery's door. "I've brought you some chrysanthemums. Uncle Jimpson brought them in from Thornwood this morning.
On New Year's in the past she had always made a formal call at Thornwood and presented the Colonel with a sample of her best wares. The Colonel in turn had invariably sent down cellar for one of the cobwebbiest bottles on the swinging shelf and bestowed it upon her with great gallantry.
'My father's breath is burning my back, cried the girl, 'put thy hand into the ear of the mare, and whatever thou findest there, throw it behind thee. And in the mare's ear there was a twig of sloe tree, and as he threw it behind him there sprung up twenty miles of thornwood so thick that scarce a weasel could go through it.
At Thornwood Miss Lady, who had been left in command of a sinking ship, struggled heroically to bring it into port. One day early in July, Myrtella Flathers sat just inside the screen door of the summer kitchen, armed with a fly-spanker and a countenance of impending gloom.
Why don't you git married, and git a kerridge, an' I'll dribe an' Carline'll cook an' tak' care de chillun." "I'm never going to marry, Uncle Jimpson," Miss Lady declared, with the passionate assurance of youth. "And I am never going to leave Thornwood. If you see Miss Ferney going down the road, ask her to stop by a minute. Come on, Mike, we are late now."
Do you remember our serenades on the Cane Run Road, Wick?" "Yes," said Noah glumly. "I forgot that you and Mr. Wicker used to know each other," Connie said curiously. "Why the Cane Run Road runs by Thornwood, doesn't it?" "Yes," said Don calmly, seizing the conversation and shoving it out of shoal water. "Go ahead, Wick, and sing something; we'll join in the chorus."
I was keen about it until until I came down here." They were both silent for a while, watching a spider that was exploring Don's boot-lace. "It all seems so footless now. What I want is a house of my own, a home, I mean. I never had much of that sort of thing I'm not quite sure I knew what a home was until I saw Thornwood."
Before I could answer some movement in the throng at the end of the hall drew the eyes of the Prince and of all of us. I looked, and saw advancing towards the throne a tall, bearded man already old, although his black hair was but grizzled with grey. He was arrayed in a white linen robe, over which hung a woollen cloak such as shepherds wear, and he carried in his hand a long thornwood staff.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking