क्रिकेट घर

क्रिकेट घर all her days, she could not imagine what it would be to depend entirely "It is now some months since I wrote you, making certain inquiries, yet you have not been courteous enough to gratify my curiosity. That is cruel of you! Miss Dallas is now Mrs. Sarby, the other lady is now Lady Meg Alymer; yet you will not tell me how this strange transfer of wives came about. Never mind, I am sure the explanation I fancied in my last letter is the correct one. But you are a rude correspondent. Fie, major. Fie! Fie! Fie!,Al Newman took him by the arm, “We’ll have to leave for the show in eight minutes old boy, just a little funeral of your own now.”,“And that was—?” suggested Mr. Whitney.,"Mr. Sarby.",“The Lord loveth a cheerful liver, Moses,” said his mother encouragingly, as she saw the growing acidity of the boy’s countenance. Mrs. Wopp had never forgotten a certain missionary service, during which she had studied a text in gold lettering of old English type on the wall. The uncertain light of stained glass falling on the last word had made it difficult to read. But at last realizing that a sound liver and cheerfulness are closely associated, she had seen no incongruity in her translation of the text.，Old Dom Pedro, scenting fresh excitement, snorted and bolted. The Strong Man was not strong enough to hold him to line, though he guided the horse safely to the Carter stable, where Bess appeared suddenly, swaying alarmingly in her flimsy snake cage.，"It is wonderful to think," said Miss Acton,[Pg 97] "how far a ship like this will go. I suppose she would go around the world."，Above, on the placid slope of down close against Old Harbour Town, hung a straggler building or two, lonely in importance, or consequential in some trifling pomp of land; at the point of cliff on Old Harbour House side, a low, pursy lighthouse wheezed at night a[Pg 2] yellow gleam that was a home-greeting or God-speed to some five score fishermen who dredged in these and further waters; and on the brow confronting the lighthouse a venerable windmill revolved its vans against the sky."Oh, you can't say that, Uncle Jen," remonstrated David.

"What dye s'pose made Caleb Spencer put up that job on me?" questioned Billy. "I never fooled him any. I did cut some letters on his new bench, but he needn't feel so sore at that.","I'm off, miss," says the miscreant, and, true to his word, darts through the hedge again like a shaft from a bow, and, scurrying through the fields, is soon lost to sight.,"I shall tell you all about it to-morrow," answered Jen, soothingly, and led her out of the room. "At the present moment you must go home with Mr. Sarby. David, there is a loose cloak of mine in the hall. Wrap it round her and come into the library. It is best that she should leave in the way she came.",Patricia shut her door with a snap and turned to her sister with a glowing face, sweeping her stray tendrils back with an eager gesture.,“Why, what have you done to your face, John? You have a big scratch there.”,“And I sort of led him on,” interrupted the boy. “I’d like it a heap if you’d let him go.”,"And you, Mr. Sarby, I can tell from your attitude, from your look; you love Miss Dallas.","Rejected, but she has a hankering for him still," said the old lady with one of those smiles of knowingness which make the lineaments[Pg 200] ghastly when bitter sorrow and tragic trouble are the topics talked about.,"I must say, Elinor," she began, in response to a question, "that it's very different from what you girls led me to expect.",BILLY did not lift his face from the pillow; he was striving to steady throat and voice.,“I’ve never worked,” May Nell said reminiscently; “but there’s one hard thing I’ve done—I’ve kept very still when mama has her headaches.”,The morning wood-mists were warm, sweet-scented; the wood-birds' song of thanksgiving was glad with the essence of God-given life. But the man astride the dejected and weary horse saw none of the beauties of his surroundings, heard none of the harmony, experienced none of the exhilaration of the life all about him, as he rode slowly down the winding trail between the trees. He sat erect in his saddle, eyes fixed straight before him. His face was strong and seamed with tiny lines. The prominence of his features was accentuated by the thinness of the face. Beady black eyes burned beneath the shadows of heavy brows. A shock of iron-grey hair brushed his shoulders. In one hand he held a leather-bound book, a long thumb fixed on the printed page from which his attention had been momentarily diverted by his survey of the woodland scene..