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“Lady of the Lake?” she finished quickly in a question. “Do you know that, too? I love it.” “Moses, you git to the barn an’ hunt the aigs, an’ min’ you look in the haystack; that ole yaller hen has been wantin’ ter set in the nigh corner of it.” They all went off, a merry, noisy troop. And the disappearing sun was the last to say to Billy “Good-night.”.
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Conrad
He watched the three drive away, the brother holding the reins in his left hand; the other he did not attempt to lift; and Billy’s heart thumped faster as fear grew to a certainty. He brushed himself weakly, turning his back as a surrey-load of people passed. “All this turnin’ is good for the liver too you know,” she continued, as her son’s vinegary expression remained unaltered. “There isn’t any Maskey’s any more,” May Nell mourned; “just ashes and old irons where used to be such oceans of goodies in such beautiful boxes and dishes.” “Jiminy! I’ll have time in the morning,” he said aloud, and hurried on, not slackening his speed till he came to a sharp turn that took the road against the face of a rugged mountain. He hid his wheel and can in a tangle of rose vine and snowdrop, and stood out on the edge of the steep bluff that overhung the rushing river. There bloomed the island. Near the centre a rocky point was aflame with gorgeous poppies; and Billy could smell the fragrance of the snowy wild heliotrope,—pop-corn the children called it..
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