The Complete Writings of Charles Dudley Warner: roundabout journeyAmerican publishing Company, 1897 |
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The Complete Writings of Charles Dudley Warner, Volume 1 Charles Dudley Warner Visualização completa - 1904 |
Termos e frases comuns
Acadians appear asked Baddeck Bay of Fundy beautiful better birds Boston Bras d'Or called Calvin Cape Breton Cape Breton Island church color delight door doubt earth enjoy fancy feel fire FIRE-TENDER fruit Gaelic garden Gothic Grand Pré ground Halifax harbor hear heard HERBERT hills horse hour island Jehoiakim keep knew land live look MANDEVILLE melodeon Middle River miles mind MISTRESS moral morning nature neighbors never night Nova Scotia once passengers perhaps person Pictou plants pleasant pleasure Polly Port Hawkesbury Port Hood Provinces pusley River seemed seen Shediac sleep society sort speak steamboat strawberries summer Sunday suppose talk tell thing thought tion toad town trees uncle vegetables voice weeds wind window winter woman women wood-fire YOUNG LADY
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 79 - The wonder was not yet quite gone From that still look of hers ; Albeit, to them she left, her day Had counted as ten years.
Página 16 - To own a bit of ground, to scratch it with a hoe, to plant seeds, and watch their renewal of life, — this is the commonest delight of the race, the most satisfactory thing a man can do.
Página 249 - We are living, we are dwelling, In a grand and awful time, In an age on ages telling, To be living is sublime.
Página 339 - Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place : but travelers must be content.
Página 353 - Our gude ship sails the morn." " Now ever alake, my master dear, I fear a deadly storm ! " I saw the new moon, late yestreen, Wi' the auld moon in her arm ; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm.
Página 19 - The principal value of a private garden is not understood. It is not to give the possessor vegetables and fruit (that can be better and cheaper done by the market-gardeners), but to teach him patience and philosophy, and the higher virtues, — hope deferred, and expectations blighted, leading directly to resignation, and sometimes to alienation. The garden thus becomes a moral agent, a test of character, as it was in the beginning.
Página 18 - To the open kitchendoor comes the busy housewife to shake a white something, and stands a moment to look, quite transfixed by the delightful sights and sounds. Hoeing in the garden on a bright, soft May day, when you are not obliged to, is nearly equal to the delight of going trouting. Blessed be agriculture! if one does not have too much of it.
Página 16 - THE love of dirt is among the earliest of passions, as it is the latest. Mud-pies gratify one of our first and best instincts. So long as we are dirty, we are pure. Fondness for the ground comes back to a man after he has run the round of pleasure and business, eaten dirt, and sown wild-oats, drifted about the world, and taken the wind of all its moods. The love of digging in the ground (or of looking on while he pays another to dig) is as sure to come back to him as he is sure, at last, to go under...
Página 392 - ... hardly ever go out now. 8. When we were young, our mother would often tell us fairy stories which interested us very much. 9. We remember them yet, and we hope (that^ we shall never forget them. 10. I had been there ten days when he came. ' 11. He had been reading an hour before his sister rose. 12. He asked me where I came from, and where I was going. 13. I answered him that I came from Montreal, and (that I) was going to Boston. 14. He wrote me a letter saying that he wished to see me. 15....
Página 134 - As for myself, I said nothing. John buried him under the twin hawthorn-trees, — one white and the other pink, — in a spot where Calvin was fond of lying and listening to the hum of summer insects and the twitter of birds. Perhaps I have failed to make appear the individuality of character that was so evident to those who knew him. At any rate, I have set down nothing concerning him but the literal truth. He was always a mystery. I did not know whence he came ; I do not know whither he has gone....