Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 4, 2025
It was Grandma Keeler who quietly and adroitly restored peace to the troubled waters. The Wallencampers, including the Keeler family, were not accustomed to speak of bread as a compact and staple article of food, but rather as one of the hard means of sustaining existence represented by the term "hunks."
"Why this sheaf, O Lord? gether in the sheaves, O Lord, the bright sheaves, early ripe and ready for the harvestin'. Glory, glory to the Lord o' the harvestin'!" Then the Wallencampers sang tremblingly of the "Harvest Home."
I could not help wondering what those two argued concerning death and the immortality of the soul. The tick! tick! tick! of the clock sounded with persistent distinctness in the room where the women sat, and Grandma Bartlett sighed, and then came the awful whisper: "Ah, death's vary sahd vary sahd." Grandma Bartlett, superannuated as she was, was the most trite of the Wallencampers.
Lovell's was the one execrable voice among the Wallencampers if anything so weak could be designated by so strong a term and his manner of keeping time with his head was clock-like in its regularity and painfully arduous; yet, out of that pristine naughtiness which found a hiding-place in the hearts of the Wallencamp youth, Lovell was frequently encouraged to come to the front during their musicals, and if not actually beguiled into executing a solo, was generously applauded in the performance of minor parts.
The small paraphernalia of invitations and wedding cards were unknown in Wallencamp. The Wallencampers would have considered that there was little virtue in a ceremony of any sort, performed without the sanction and approval of their united presence. In regard to the particular nature of this entertainment, there was some snickering in the corners of the room, but the general aspect was funereal.
Now, for, the Wallencampers to be reproved, however scathingly, by some zealous and inspired individual of their own number, was considered, on the whole, as an apt and appropriate thing, but to be reproved by the "Nigger-camp" minister!
You stay home and pick up laths! and he did, and oh, he got a dreadful pile! most ten dollars worth; but I think it's so nice, don't yew, to have direct dealin's with the Almighty!" The Barlows, by the way, were regarded with a sort of contemptuous toleration by the Wallencampers in general, on account of their thrift and penuriousness, the branded qualities of sordid and unpoetic natures.
I know what lofty ideas you have just now of consecrating yourself to the work of refining and elevating the Wallencampers. I know how coolly you can fix your eyes on a certain goal, and stumble indiscriminately over everything that comes in your way. I know what a deucedly superior state of mind you've gotten into.
Eagle Hill was haunted by a horse, a pure white horse not Lovell's with a flowing mane and tail, and a beautiful arched neck. His motions, the Wallencampers said, were most fiery and graceful. Occasionally he paused and fell back, quivering on his haunches, looked this way and that, and then, with a wild plunge, swept on again, swifter than before.
I exclaimed, in righteous exculpation of the act. "Never!" Up from the beach, lightly tripping, capacious reticule in hand, came Mrs. Barlow to spend the day at the Ark, unexpectedly! The inspired and felicitous customs of the Wallencampers admitted of no rude surprises; rational joy, alone, pervaded the Ark at this matutinal advent. Mrs.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking