. Our village. ouse, and bred up as a |parish boy, has now, by mere manual labour, risen to |the rank of a land-owner, pays rates and taxes, grumbles Iat the times, and is called Master Welles,—the title next to Mister—that by which Shakspeare was called ; j—what would man have more ? His wife, besides beingthe best laundress in the county, is a comely womanstill. There she stands at the spring, dipping up waterfor to-morrow,—the clear, deep, silent spring, whichsleeps so peacefully under its high flowery bank, redwith the tall spiral stalks of the foxglove and their richpendent bells, blue wi
. Our village. ouse, and bred up as a |parish boy, has now, by mere manual labour, risen to |the rank of a land-owner, pays rates and taxes, grumbles Iat the times, and is called Master Welles,—the title next to Mister—that by which Shakspeare was called ; j—what would man have more ? His wife, besides beingthe best laundress in the county, is a comely womanstill. There she stands at the spring, dipping up waterfor to-morrow,—the clear, deep, silent spring, whichsleeps so peacefully under its high flowery bank, redwith the tall spiral stalks of the foxglove and their richpendent bells, blue with the beautiful forget-me-not, thatgem-like blossom, which looks like a living jewel ofturquoise and topaz. It is almost too late to see itsbeauty ; and here is the pleasant shady lane, where thehi£;;h elms will shut out the little twilierht that remains. THE HARD SUMMER 175 Ah, but \vc shall have the fairies lamps to guide us, thestars of the earth, the glow-worms I Here they arc, ^;^^^-. ■L
Size: 1922px × 1300px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthorritchieannethackeray1, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890
