Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
This conversation took place in Billy’s shop, a room adjoining the wood-house and given over to his use. Nothing short of the world in the second verse of Genesis was equal to the chaos of that place. Every conceivable scrap and job lot of “truck” was there in a jumbled heap; and Billy was never happier than when mussing it over in search of “material”; in greasy overalls and crownless hat, whistling merrily, bringing forth to substance and form the inventions of his busy brain. He smiled wanly, and her heart ached for him; but she knew sympathy was unsafe just then. “If you could see that comical, crooked eye of yours blinking at me, like a chicken asking your intentions, you’d laugh, Billy.” “Jist as soon’s you finish yer dinner an’ yer noon chores, Moses, I want you to go weed them beets,” instructed Mrs. Wopp. “The weeds is chokin’ them out an’ I see the gophers has been eatin’ some o’ them, too.”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
He drew his breath in a gasp and stopped, arrested by her suddenly turning her back upon him and bowing with the exquisite grace of the finished curtsy of those days to what Mr Lawrence guessed was an apparition.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
Maurice puckered up his lips and gave an answering call. It was returned almost immediately. A moment later two more boys came into the moonlight.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
THE place Billy called the Fo’castle was a tiny room in the sloping windmill tower. It was level with the second floor of the house, and a narrow, railed bridge connected it with a door in his mother’s room. Under it was the above-ground cellar, overhead the big tank. Still higher whirled the great white wings that pumped the beauty-giving water to lawn and gardens. “Mar,” he demanded hastily, “more marshed turnips, please.” Bouncer tied? That red handkerchief! The boy went cold and pale. Before he looked he knew that May Nell was not there. He turned his white face to the others as they came up. “Naw Nosey,” he retorted, “there ain’t no bun to break in two, the dorg is outside the bun already.”.
298 people found this
review helpful