There's good fish in the sea as has iver been had—
kickrummy, Lucy heard a church bell strike: she started from a fit of abstraction, and, turning to move on, confronted an old man who was crossing the bridge. The face of this old man was pale and wrinkled; his hair was long and quite white. His nose streamed down his face in a thin, curling outline; his mouth when his lips were compressed might be expressed by a simple stroke of a pencil.[Pg 30] His eyes were deep-seated and extraordinarily luminous and swift in their motions, and his eyebrows, which were as white as his hair, were so thick and overhanging that they might have passed for a couple of white mice sleeping on his brow. His apparel had that dim and faded look which in fiction is associated with miserliness. His high and dingy white cravat and the tall build of his coat at the back of his head, so sloped his shoulders that they looked to make a line with his arms. He wore a faded red waistcoat which sank very low, and under it dangled a bunch of seals. His knee-breeches left painfully visible the pipe-stem shanks clothed in grey hose and terminating in large shoes, burdened with steel buckles.
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kickrummy He fell in beside Billy, adjusting his stride to the shorter one of the boy. In silence they walked until they reached a rise of land which had been cleared of all varieties of trees except maples. Sap-suckers twittered as they hung head downward and red squirrels chattered shrilly. In a cleared spot in the wood, beside a spring-fed creek, stood a sugar-shanty, two great cauldrons, upside down, gleaming like black eyes from its shadowy interior. A pile of wooden sap-troughs stood just outside the shanty door..
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