Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor (Google eBook)

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T. Y. Crowell Company, 1893 - Monmouth's Rebellion, 1685
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Review: Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor

User Review  - Gale - Goodreads

"Forbidden Romance in the Rugged Highlands" Novels written in the 19th century are not everyone's cup of English tea, so taste therefrom with mild literary trepidation. This novel is quite different ... Read full review

Review: Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor

User Review  - Werner - Goodreads

This enduring 19th century classic (never out of print since it was first published) has been on my radar ever since I saw an old black-and-white film version of it as a kid; but my interest was ... Read full review

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Page 43 - ... knitted by my mother, it happened to me without choice, I may say, to explore the Bagworthy water. And it came about in this wise. My mother had long been ailing, and not well able to eat much; and there is nothing that frightens us so much as for people to have no love of their victuals. Now I chanced to remember that once at the time of the holidays I had brought dear mother from Tiverton a jar of pickled loaches, caught by myself in the Lowman river, and baked in the kitchen oven, with vinegar,...
Page 69 - But there came a shrill whistle from up the home-hill, where the people had hurried to watch us; and the mare stopped as if with a bullet; then set off for home with the speed of a swallow, and going as smoothly and silently. I never had dreamed of such delicate motion, fluent, and graceful, and ambient, soft as the breeze flitting over the flowers, but swift as the summer lightning. I sat up again, but my strength was all spent, and no time left to recover it, and though she rose at our gate like...
Page 64 - ... a gaze of appealing sorrow, and then a loud quack to second it. But the quack came out of time, I suppose, for his throat got filled with water, as the hurdle carried him back again. And then there was scarcely the screw of his tail to be seen until he swung up again, and left small doubt by the way he...
Page 63 - ... washed down the gutters, and even our water-shoot going brown) that the ducks in the court made a terrible quacking, instead of marching off to their pen, one behind another. Thereupon Annie and I ran out to see what might be the sense of it. There were thirteen ducks, and ten lily-white (as the fashion...
Page 48 - ... greatly, and making me feel that I would give something only to be at home again, with Annie cooking my supper, and our dog Watch sniffing upward.
Page 48 - John Ridd, these trees, and pools, and lonesome rocks, and setting of the sunlight, are making a gruesome coward of thee. Shall I go back to my mother so, and be called her fearless boy?" Nevertheless, I am free to own that it was not any fine sense of shame which settled my decision ; for indeed there was nearly as much of danger in going back as in going on, and perhaps even more of labor, the journey being so roundabout. But that which saved me from turning back, was a strange, inquisitive desire,...
Page 70 - ... soon be off our hands, and somebody might come and take a fancy to little Lizzie (who was growing up very nicely now, though not so fine as Annie) ; moreover we were almost sure to have great store of hay and corn after so much snow, if there be any truth in the old saying, " A foot deep of rain Will kill hay and grain ; But three feet of snow Will make them come mo'.
Page 50 - I must acknowledge that the greatest danger of all was just where I saw no jeopardy, but ran up a patch of black ooze weed in a very boastful manner, being now not far from the summit. Here I fell...
Page 46 - So I put the bag round my neck again, and buckled my breeches far up from the knee expecting deeper water, and crossing the Lynn, went stoutly up under the branches which hang so dark on the Bagworthy river.
Page 51 - ... lest she should cease to like me. But she clapped her hands, and made a trifling dance around my back, and came to me on the other side, as if I were a great plaything. 'What is your name ?' she said, as if she had every right to ask me; 'and how did you come here, and what are these wet things in this great bag ? ' 'You had better let them alone,' I said; 'they are loaches for my mother. But I will give you some, if you like.

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