Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 29, 2025
Thomas-Soyer exhibited "An Irish Setter and a Laverock," and in 1903 "Under the White Squall." <b>THORNYCROFT, MARY.</b> Born 1814; died 1895. Daughter of John Francis, the sculptor, whose pupil she was. This artist exhibited at the Royal Academy when very young. Her first important work was a life-size figure called "The Flower-Girl."
"DID you hear what he said? He said 'damn'. That's because " "You cut along," Jim's drawl broke in, "and get ready if you want to ride." Mr Thornycroft tucked Deb into the pony-carriage with the solicitude of a mother fixing up a young baby going out with its nurse. He insisted that she should wear a shawl over her linen jacket, and brought forth an armful of softest WOOL, Indian wove.
Jim was easily snubbed; Mr Thornycroft though he did not mention it was ill at the time. So she got rid of all possible hindrances, and then professing to go travelling went nobody knew where, and was virtually lost for years.
There was a commotion when they entered. The men, standing about the pot-bellied stove, their overcoats steaming, made way for them. Old Man Thornycroft looked quickly and triumphantly around. In the rear of the store the squire rose from a table, in front of which was a cleared space. "Pull up a chair nigh the stove for Mrs. Allen, Tom Belcher," he said.
Harper had not interchanged a single word alone with Mrs. Thornycroft. In disgust and shame that her vanity oh! not vanity, but a feeling that, holy as it was, her proud heart still denied had led her to form the suspicion, Agatha cast it from her.
Thornycroft," said Kirby, "at nine o'clock this mornin' this place ceased to be Tom Belcher's sto', an' become a court of justice. Some things are seemly in a court, some not. You stand back there!" The old man stepped back to the counter, and stood pulling his chin, his eyes running over the crowd of faces. "Davy Allen," spoke Mr. Kirby, "you stand back there with your ma.
She gained the one end she had schemed for throughout to get past the risks of the public marriage and back to her struggle in obscurity, unmolested, unpitied, unshamed. The Urquharts wrote, and Mr Thornycroft, when he sent his present; but she had "bluffed" them with her implied misrepresentations, and hurt their feelings by not wanting them at the wedding.
Thornycroft again looked down uneasily at her dress not from overmuch vanity, but because her hounded mind recurred instinctively from extraneous or large interests to individual and lesser ones. "Is there really any one particular coming, my dear? Of course, you have no trouble about evening dress; mourning is such easy comfortable wear."
She thought I should be quite as comfortable, and it was her opinion that in making arrangements with lodgers, it was a good plan not to "bryke up the 'ome any more than was necessary." "Bryke up the 'ome!" That is seemingly the malignant purpose with which I entered Barbury Green. July 4th. Enter the family of Thornycroft Farm, of which I am already a member in good and regular standing.
On the way out we can find sweet places to steal nests . . . Cut-cut-cut! . . . I am so glad I am not sitting this heavenly morning; it is a dull life." A Lancashire poultryman drifted into Barbury Green yesterday. He is an old acquaintance of Mr. Heaven, and spent the night and part of the next day at Thornycroft Farm.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking