United States or Saint Pierre and Miquelon ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Meanin' the weskit, sir?" asked Treacher. "Is it a waistcoat?" "Well, sir, it used to be an antimacassar; but Miss Gabriel had it made up for me, all the shirts in store bein' used up, so to speak." Too well the Commandant recognised it; an abomination of crochet work in stripes, four inches wide, of scarlet, green, orange-yellow, and violet.
"Because," said the boy, "Old Mother Treacher was here, not ten minutes ago, and the way she spent her money was a caution. There's the best part of four shillin' in the till, if only you'll look." "What did she buy?" "Eggs mostly and bacon and marmalade." Mr. Tregaskis walked to his shop door, and stared up the hill after the Commandant.
Treacher sounded obediently, and down the hill all three staggered past the garrison gates, with a call to Mrs. Below them, along the quay, and on the causeway at the head of it voices were calling and lights moving; but the fog reduced the shouts to a twitter, as of birds, and the torches and lantern to mere glow-worm sparks.
But at this moment the muffled note of a bell began to sound through the fog, vindicating Treacher's vigilance. Treacher, however, was not the ringer. The Commandant had scarcely slipped on his fatigue jacket, and begun to search in the wardrobe for his overcoat, when Treacher's voice sounded up the staircase, demanding to know if the garrison was awake. "Awake?" called back Archelaus.
"There was a coat-tail missing yesterday, if I remember, when you crept out from the bushes like a whipped urchin, and now there's two: and you'll be telling me that these fine stitches were put in by Jane Treacher, who is like most soldier's wives, and sews like a cow!" "The Lord have mercy upon us!" said Archelaus, in a hushed voice.
"The month of January was a dreary month. A sick man in the house, and very little medicine; and what was worse, the Royalist did not make her appearance. Yet both these troubles disappeared nearly together; for M'Kenzie got well, and the schooner, bringing with her Dr. Treacher, arrived. She had been detained undergoing some necessary repairs.
Treacher and fastened itself upon a garment of gaudily-striped woolwork her antimacassar lying across the arm of the sofa where the Commandant had tossed it impatiently. "Terribly messy a man always is when left to himself," said Mrs. Treacher, rising and stepping to a corner cupboard. "If he keeps such a thing as a drop of brandy on the premises, it'll be here, I reckon."
Treacher all three had been sworn to secrecy, and all three could be trusted. These folks read no harm, nothing beyond an amusing mystery, in Vashti's sojourn, and in particular she had made Mrs. Treacher her obedient slave.
Word Of The Day