Vietnam or Thailand? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week!
Want to type faster? Practice with a typing test or have fun with typing games!
Updated: August 15, 2026
One lovely spring morning long years ago in Hellas, Lydia, wife of Melas the Spartan, sat upon a stool in the court of her house, with her wool-basket beside her, spinning.
Lydia thrust her distaff into the wool-basket by her side and rose hastily from her stool. "There's no time to lose," she said. "The Stranger will not wish to linger here if he expects to reach Ambelaca to-night. It is a good two miles to the village, and he'll not find a boat crossing to the mainland after dark. I am sure of that, unlessperhaps he has one waiting for him there."
Then wood was piled upon the fire, and Lydia seated herself beside it once more with her distaff and wool-basket, while Chloe crept into the shadow behind her mistress's chair, and the Twins drew nearer to her footstool. When everything was quiet once more, the Stranger lifted his wine-cup. "Since we are in the country," he said, "we will make our libation to Demeter, the Goddess of the fields.
Lack-a-daisy-dee!" And I twisted my body about, and strolled up and down the room with a supposed travesty of Mrs. Wood's movements. "So she is," said faithful Jem. "Lack-a-daisy-dee! Lack-a-daisy-dee!" and he wriggled about after me, and knocked over the Berlin wool-basket. "Oh dear, oh dear!" said our poor mother.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking