Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
No one who knew him could have any reasonable doubt that he did but bear the blame of some one else's guilt, most likely that of George Proudfoot; but he died a year or two back without a word, and no proof has ever been found; and alas! the week after Archie sailed, we saw his name in the list of sufferers in a vessel that was burnt.
He ought to be exposed at once, if he cannot be made to suffer otherwise." "Nay, Jenny, that would be hard measure." "Hard measure!" she interrupted; "what has my innocent Archie had?" "Think of the old man, his wife and daughter, Jenny." "She's a Proudfoot. And that girl the scandal of the country! You want to sacrifice Archie to them, Julius?"
Turkey Proudfoot never knew that the peacock was no bigger than he was. The elegant creature had such a huge tail and such a loud, harsh voice that Turkey Proudfoot stood in great awe of him. Being very peevish, after his first meeting with the peacock, Turkey Proudfoot went behind the barn and found a young gobbler and gave him a terrible drubbing. Then Turkey Proudfoot felt better.
That was his account; but Proudfoot, Moy, and Vivian all denied any knowledge of this return of his, or of the letter. The night of this inquiry he was missing. Jenny Bowater, who was with an aunt in London, heard that a gentleman had called to see her while she was out for a couple of days; and a week later we saw his name among the passengers lost in the Hippolyta off Falmouth." "Poor Jenny!
But his brother Tom was just as great a boaster. And after a time each began to think the other's stories somewhat tiresome. So they began to yawn. And at last they fell asleep. A crescent moon peeped down at them from a clear, cold sky that crackled with stars. A chilling breeze swept down the valley. And sometime during the night Turkey Proudfoot woke up and found himself a-shiver.
And being rather peppery himself, he was tempted to say something sharp something about axes, which are always sharp unless they're dull. But Mr. Grouse managed to control his temper. After all, he thought, it was no wonder that Turkey Proudfoot didn't want to hear about Thanksgiving Day. "Pardon me!" said Mr. Grouse. "I only brought up this matter in a cousinly kind of way."
Why are you holding your foot off the ground like that?" "I was in the midst of taking a step when you turned around and startled me," Master Meadow Mouse explained. "And I don't know whether to set my foot down ahead of me, or to put it behind me." "Don't be alarmed!" Turkey Proudfoot said. "I never fight folks of your size. You're too little for me to pay much attention to.
He blushed. He furiously buttered his bread as Mrs. Arty remarked to the assemblage: "Ladies and gentlemen, I want you all to meet Miss Istra Nash. Miss Nash you've met Mr. Wrenn; Miss Nelly Croubel, our baby; Tom Poppins, the great Five-Hundred player; Mrs. Ebbitt, Mr. Ebbitt, Miss Proudfoot."
You can't be expected to know anything about us game birds." Mr. Grouse moved back and forth upon his log in the clearing in the woods. And casting a withering glance at Turkey Proudfoot, he said, "It's plain that you don't know what a game bird is. Men and boys, too come into the woods with guns to hunt us.
He started to run, flapping his wings awkwardly. And just as he rose into the air a reddish, brownish streak flashed beneath him. Turkey Proudfoot settled himself on a branch of an old oak and looked down at a sharp-faced, grinning person who leered up at him. It was Tommy Fox. And though he looked very pleasant, inside he was feeling quite peevish. If it hadn't been for Mr.
Word Of The Day