Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
He was a queer figure with his bandaged head, one eye peering out, and a long, dripping red quilt trailing behind him. “I found the bed flooded, and put the comfort round me; but someway that’s wet, too.” He could hardly speak for shivering. Discarded shoe-laces, rope and trunk-straps came hastily into requisition. The vociferations of Moses were so severe on his vocal chords that he found it necessary to visit the pump. “What is Betty like?”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Each spring the farmers attended the fishermen's annual bee of pile-driving, which meant the placing of the stakes for the pound nets—a dangerous and thankless task. Wet, weary and hungry, they would return to their homes at night with considerable more faith in the reward that comes of helping one's fellow-men than in the promise of the fishermen to keep them supplied, gratis, with all the fresh fish they needed during the season.I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
There is danger here in the glade, lad,
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
He tried to hold it from falling, but could not. It seemed as if his arms would be pulled out of their sockets. It would fall short—he must hold on to it, not let it strike below, for the noise would betray them too soon; and—the men in the wagon were passing! “This froth looks like soapsuds,” he complained. “There Nancy,” she whispered, “is a sunbeam for breakfast dipped in milk.” “Hooray, Billy! Thirteen to-morrow! But this is the day we celebrate!”.
298 people found this
review helpful