Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: August 1, 2024
When they arrived at the white hotel in the Borgognissanti and the night watchman drew the great bolts to admit them, Merrihew was glad. And all this to evolve from an unknown woman singing under Hillard's window but six months ago! And a princess! Truly the world was full of surprises. He went to bed, advising Hillard to do the same.
On March 3, 1844, a daughter was born to the Hawthornes, whom they named Una, in spite of Hillard's objection that the name was too poetic or too fanciful for the prosaic practicalities of real life. The name was an excellent one for a poet's daughter, and did not seem out of place in Arcadian Concord.
Singling out Hillard, he came solemnly down to the corner table and laid a blue letter at the side of Hillard's plate. "I did not see you when you came in, sir," said the steward, his voice as solemn as his step. "The letter arrived yesterday." "Thank you, Thomas." With no small difficulty Hillard composed his face and repressed the eagerness in his eyes.
On the envelope my father has written Hillard's name and "The Scarlet Letter," showing with what interest he preserved this friend's criticism and praise. On the other side of the envelope is written, "Foi, Foi, Faith." No one ever was more faithful to, and consequently ever had more faith in, his friends than my father. BOSTON, March 28, 1850.
The advanced classes were reading simple stories and didactic passages in the ordinary school-books, as Hillard's Second Primary Reader, Willson's Second Reader, and others of similar grade. Those who had enjoyed a briefer period of instruction were reading short sentences or learning the alphabet.
I could wear them quite handily over here." "Buy an order. Any pawnshop will have a few for sale. You could wear it in Switzerland or France, and nobody would be any the wiser." "But I'm serious." "So am I." Merrihew brightened, reached into a vest pocket, and to Hillard's horror produced a monocle, which he gravely screwed in his eye. "Where the " "Sh! If you make me laugh I'll drop it."
They had, with the usual impatience of men, gone directly to the Campo Santa Maria Formosa for the great reward. They had watched and waited till near midnight, but in vain. For once Hillard's usual keenness had been at fault. He had forgotten that the Campo was to be entered from two ways, by gondola and by foot. He and Merrihew had simply guarded the bridge.
And won't there be a killing!" "It wouldn't do you any good to borrow it?" "In that case I should owe two thousand instead of one. No, thank you. Shall I see you at the club to-night?" "Perhaps. Good-by." They nodded pleasantly and took their separate ways. Merrihew stood very high in Hillard's regard.
"Put it in the bottom of the trunk and leave it there till you land in New York. But the prince dead? You are sure?" "All Florence is ringing with the story of the ball, the wind-up, and the tragedy. He's dead, no doubt of it. Shall we go up to the villa this morning?" "No, Dan;" but all the weariness went out of Hillard's eyes. And then Merrihew noticed.
After my fellowship of toil and impracticable schemes with the dreamy brethren of Brook Farm; after living for three years within the subtle influence of an intellect like Emerson's; after those wild, free days on the Assabeth, indulging fantastic speculations, beside our fire of fallen boughs, with Ellery Channing; after talking with Thoreau about pine-trees and Indian relics in his hermitage at Walden; after growing fastidious by sympathy with the classic refinement of Hillard's culture; after becoming imbued with poetic sentiment at Longfellow's hearthstone it was time, at length, that I should exercise other faculties of my nature, and nourish myself with food for which I had hitherto had little appetite.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking