In Luck's Way

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J.W. Lovell Company, 1891 - 294 pages
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Page 278 - For why?" put in Ben of the strawberries. " Her heart is too hard ever to be broke." This elicited another burst of merriment. Then the men went forth. Jessie, angered, ashamed, with burning head and bounding heart, rushed out and ran up the lane to her cottage, and threw herself on her bed, with her hands over her eyes, tossing, muttering, then at length with the tears of mortification streaming between her fingers. She was no longer the Moth-Mullein, but the dragon of Darenth. Her husband was in...
Page 260 - ... Underwood. I keep out of the way. I see through her little games." " And she has ordered of me a couple of boxes for her clothes and them odds and ends as don't go into the sale," said Joseph Ruddle. " She thinks we're moths to be caught, she's such a dab hand at hunting ; but we're wary coves — eh, Sam ? eh, Ben ? In vain is the net spread in sight of the bird.
Page 261 - ... for milk, boxes, and pottle-plaiting in order to bring them there. She was very angry with all three; so angry, that had any one of them come back and offered himself to her she would have rejected him disdainfully. She had been sobbing for some time, when again she heard steps, and again some one entered the kiln-mouth. " Brrh ! " said a voice, " I must shake myself like a dog. The wind is so high I cannot light a pipe out there, and I must dry my fingers before I can get at the lucifers.
Page 246 - He seemed shy. In fact he did not know what to say. He was unaccustomed to paying visits of condolence. ' What are you going to do, if I may ask, Moth ? ' ' I shall have to leave this house,' she answered, and sobbed. ' It will go to the new woodman.' ' Where are you likely to go to ? Have you any nice relations ? ' ' I have no relations at all — that is, none whom I could stay with.
Page 251 - ... opposite the carpenter's shop, were the strawberry-fields of Ben Poison. He was a heavy, stout fellow with a flat face, who walked about with his hands in his pockets ; he, however, looked after his interests well, and in the time of strawberries was active, and drew his hands out. Well — if Mr. Parkinson did not propose to make her Mrs. Parkinson, she would have Sam Underwood, and if Sam Underwood still sulked, she would waive the difference in social standing between the other two, and for...
Page 210 - At the edge of Darenth Wood stood, and perhaps stands still, a little house ; it was inhabited by a forester, a man who trimmed and attended to the trees, thinning, pruning, planting. His name was Mullins ; his wife was dead, but he had a daughter of the age of twenty — a remarkably handsome girl, with clear complexion, blue eyes, and singularly fair hair, that in the sun looked almost white ; it was not quite silver, but of a yellowish tinge, an amalgam of gold and silver. She was tall and straight,...
Page 262 - ... The wind is so high I cannot light a pipe out there, and I must dry my fingers before I can get at the lucifers." The voice was that of Dicky Duck. The girl shrank further back. She put one hand over her mouth, the other she pressed against her bosom, to check the sobs. She would not for the world be found there by Dicky Duck. Then, whilst his fingers were drying, he began to whistle. Dick had a sweet pipe, and he whistled with taste and in tune. He whistled now " Home, Sweet Home ! " All at...
Page 209 - ... caught in it, and it is for the Noctuina group that the collectors hunt here. They spread treacle and beer, mixed, on the trunks of the trees, and catch the moths that are attracted by the mixture. There are as many as three hundred British species of Noctuina alone. Then there are the Bombycidae, which are not caught by treacle. The collectors hatch out a female and place her on a tree, when numerous males of the species gather about her. This method is not peculiar to the Bombycidae, though...
Page 258 - Underwood," said the voice of Ben Poison, " we shall do in here. What a slashing shower! It can't last long. I've just mulched my beds, and, darn it, this flood will wash all the goodness away into the runnels, and carry it to the Thames. What I like is a soft drizzle — that carries the goodness into the ground and nourishes the roots.
Page 235 - The lead was again melted, and little Dick got on a chair, stood above the table, and let the fluid metal pour down from a height into the bowl. Again a burst of queries, guesses, and jokes. The lead was extracted from the water ; he had poured it in two masses, and two separate formations were in the water. ' What is this ? ' he asked, holding up the largest mass, which was shapeless. ' It looks to me like a dragon," laughed the head-keeper, Finch.

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