>>> YOU ARE VIEWING A 200 LINE SAMPLE OF EBOOK# E00765 <<< TITLE: QUEECHY AUTHOR: ELIZABETH WETHERELL EBOOK: E00765 (O'Briens Book Cellar) [Illustration: She stopped a moment when she came upon the bridge.] Queechy. by Elizabeth Wetherell. Illustrated By Frederic Dielman. "I hope I may speak of woman without offence to ladies." The Guardian Contents. I. Curtain Rises at Queechy II. Things Loom Out Dimly Through the Smoke III. You Amuse Me and I'll Amuse You IV. Aunt Miriam V. As to Whether a Flower Can Grow in the Woods VI. Queechy at Dinner VII. The Curtain Falls Upon the Scene VIII. The Fairy Leaves the House IX. How Mr. Carleton Happened To Be Not at Home X. The Fairy and the Englishman XI. A Little Candle XII. Spars Below XIII. The Fairy Peeps into an English House, but Does Not Stay There XIV. Two Bibles in Paris XV. Very Literary XVI. Dissolving View--Ending with a Saw-Mill in the Distance XVII. Rain and Water--Cresses for Breakfast XVIII. Mr. Rossitur's Wits Sharpened upon a Ploughshare XIX. Fleda Goes After Help and Finds Dr. Quackenboss XX. Society in Queechy XXI. "The Sweetness of a Man's Friend by a Hearty Counsel" XXII. Wherein a Great Many People Pay Their Respects in Form and Substance XXIII. The Captain Out-Generalled by the Fairy XXIV. A Breath of the World at Queechy XXV. "As Good a Boy as You Need to Have" XXVI. Pine Knots XXVII. Sweet--In Its Consequences XXVIII. The Brook's Old Song--And the New XXIX. Flighty and Unsatisfactory XXX. Disclosures--By Mr. Skillcorn XXXI. Mr. Olmney's Cause Argued XXXII. Sometimes Inconvenient "From the Loophole of Retreat to Peep at Such a World" XXXIII. Fleda's White Muslin XXXIV. How the Fairy Engaged the Two Englishmen XXXV. Fleda Forgets Herself XXXVI. The Roses and the Gentlemen XXXVII. "An Unseen Enemy Round the Corner" XXXVIII. The Fairy at Her Work Again XXXIX. A Night of Uncertain Length XL. A Thorn Enters XLI. Dealings with the Press XLII. Ends with Sweet Music XLIII. How Fleda Was Watched by Blue Eyes XLIV. What Pleasant People One Meets in Society XLV. How Much Trouble One May Have about a Note XLVI. Aromatic Vinegar XLVII. The Fur Cloak on a Journey XLVIII. Quarrenton to Queechy XLIX. Montepoole Becomes a Point of Interest L. The House on "The Hill" Once More LI. The First One That Left Queechy LII. The Last Sunset There LIII. Fleda Alone on an Isthmus LIV. The Moorish Temple before Breakfast List of Illustrations. She stopped a moment when she came upon the bridge. (_Frontispiece_) She made a long job of her bunch of holly. "I wasn't thinking of myself in particular." "Who's got it now, Cynthy?" Fleda coloured and looked at her grandfather. Fleda was sitting, her face bowed in her hands. She stood back and watched. Then he seated himself beside her. The children were always together. "He is not a pug." "They will expect me at home." "Well, sir, you know the road by Deacon Patterson's?" "O uncle Rolf, don't have anything to do with him." "Look at these roses, and don't ask me for papers!" She knelt down before him. "How lovely it is, Hugh!" Philetus was left to "shuck" and bring home a load of the fruit. "And there goes Mr. Carleton!" said Constance. Fleda saw with a start that it was Mr. Carleton. "I am sure Mr. Thorn will excuse me." "My dear child," he said, holding her face in both his hands. Mrs. Rossitur sat there alone. Barby's energies and fainting remedies were again put in use. Then he stood and watched her. "Well, take your place," said Thorn. "I told him, 'O you were not gone yet!'" "How are they all at home?" "Is this the gentleman that's to be your husband?" Slowly and lingeringly they moved away. The roses could not be sweeter to any one. Queechy. Chapter I. A single cloud on a sunny day When all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear, When skies are blue and earth is gay. Byron. Come, dear grandpa!--the old mare and the wagon are at the gate--all ready." "Well, dear!"--responded a cheerful hearty voice, "they must wait a bit; I haven't got my hat yet." "O I'll get that." And the little speaker, a girl of some ten or eleven years old, dashed past the old gentleman and running along the narrow passage which led to his room soon returned with the hat in her hand. "Yes, dear,--but that ain't all. I must put on my great-coat--and I must look and see if I can find any money--" "O yes--for the post-office. It's a beautiful day, grandpa. Cynthy!--won't you come and help grandpa on with his great-coat?--And I'll go out and keep watch of the old mare till you're ready." A needless caution. For the old mare, though spirited enough for her years, had seen some fourteen or fifteen of them and was in no sort of danger of running away. She stood in what was called the back meadow, just without the little paling fence that enclosed a small courtyard round the house. Around this courtyard rich pasture-fields lay on every side, the high road cutting through them not more than a hundred or two feet from the house. The little girl planted herself on the outside of the paling and setting her back to it eyed the old mare with great contentment; for besides other grounds for security as to her quiet behaviour, one of the men employed about the farm, who had harnessed the equipage, was at the moment busied in putting some clean straw in the bottom of the vehicle. "Watkins," said the child presently to this person, "here is a strap that is just ready to come unbuckled." "What do you know about straps and buckles?" said the man rather grumly. But he came round however to see what she meant, and while he drew the one and fastened the other took special good care not to let Fleda know that her watchful eyes had probably saved the whole riding party from ruin; as the loosing of the strap would of necessity have brought on a trial of the old mare's nerves which not all her philosophy could have been expected to meet. Fleda was satisfied to see the buckle made fast, and that Watkins, roused by her hint or by the cause of it, afterwards took a somewhat careful look over the whole establishment. In high glee then she climbed to her seat in the little wagon, and her grandfather coming out coated and hatted with some difficulty mounted to his place beside her. "I think Watkins might have taken the trouble to wash the wagon, without hurting himself," said Fleda; "it is all specked with mud since last time." "Ha'n't he washed it!" said the old gentleman in a tone of displeasure. "Watkins!"-- "Well."-- "Why didn't you wash the wagon as I told you?" "I did." "It's all over slosh." "That's Mr. Didenhover's work--he had it out day 'fore yesterday; and if you want it cleaned, Mr. Ringgan, you must speak to him about it. Mr. Didenhover may file his own doings; it's more than I'm a going to." The old gentleman made no answer, except to acquaint the mare with the fact of his being in readiness to set out. A shade of annoyance and displeasure for a moment was upon his face; but the gate opening from the meadow upon the high road had hardly swung back upon its hinges after letting them out when he recovered the calm sweetness of demeanour that was habitual with him, and seemed as well as his little granddaughter to have given care the go-by for the time. Fleda had before this found out another fault in the harness, or rather in Mr. Didenhover, which like a wise little child she kept to herself. A broken place which her grandfather had ordered to be properly mended was still tied up with the <<< END OF SAMPLE... (THE FULL EBOOK HAS 1563516 TOTAL CHARACTERS) >>>