Books > Old Books > The White Peacock (1906)


Page 143

PART II - CHAPTER I
STRANGE BLOSSOMS AND STRANGE NEW BUDDING

the left, and away into the mountain knob of Derbyshire straight in front and towards the right.
The upper road is all grassy, fallen into long disuse. It used to lead from the Abbey to the Hall; but now it ends blindly on the hill-brow. Half-way along is the old White House farm, with its green mounting steps mouldering outside. Ladies have mountedhere and ridden towards the Vale of Belvoir-but now a labourer holds the farm.
We came to the quarries, and looked in at the lime-kilns.
`Let us go right into the wood out of the quarry,' said Leslie. ` I have not been since I was a little lad.'
'It is trespassing,' said Emily.
'We don't trespass,' he replied grandiloquently.
So we went along by the hurrying brook, which fell over little cascades in its haste, never looking once at the primroses that were glimmering all along its banks. We turned aside, and climbed the hill through the woods. Velvety green springs of dog-mercury were scattered on the red soil. We came to the top of a slope, where the wood thinned. As I talked to Emily I became dimly aware of a whiteness over the ground. She exclaimed with surprise, and I found that 1 was walking, in the first shades of twilight, over clumps of snowdrops. The hazels were thin, and only here and there an oak-tree uprose. All the ground was white with snowdrops, like drops of manna scattered over the red earth, on the grey-green clusters of leaves. There was a deep little dell, sharp sloping like a cup, and white sprinkling of flowers all the way down, with white flowers showing pale among the first inpouring of shadow at the bottom. The earth was red and warm, pricked with the dark, succulent green of bluebell sheaths, and embroidered with grey-green clusters of spears, and many white flowerets. High above, above the light tracery of hazel, the weird oaks tangled in the sunset. Below, in the first shadows, dropped hosts of little white flowers, so silent and sad; it seemed like a holy communion of pure wild things, numberless, frail, and folded meekly in the evening light. Other flower companies are glad; stately barbaric hordes of bluebells, merry-headed cowslip groups, even light, tossing wood-anemones; but snowdrops are sad and mysterious. We have lost their

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE the left, and away into what is mountain knob of Derbyshire straight in front and towards what is right. what is upper road is all grassy, fallen into long disuse. It used to lead from what is Abbey to what is Hall; but now it ends blindly on what is hill-brow. Half-way along is what is old White House farm, with its green mounting steps mouldering outside. Ladies have mountedhere and ridden towards what is Vale of Belvoir-but now a labourer holds what is farm. We came to what is quarries, and looked in at what is lime-kilns. `Let us go right into what is wood out of what is quarry,' said Leslie. ` I have not been since I was a little lad.' 'It is trespassing,' said Emily. 'We don't trespass,' he replied grandiloquently. So we went along by what is hurrying brook, which fell over little cascades in its haste, never looking once at what is primroses that were glimmering all along its banks. We turned aside, and climbed what is hill through what is woods. Velvety green springs of dog-mercury were scattered on what is red soil. We came to what is top of a slope, where what is wood thinned. As I talked to Emily I became dimly aware of a whiteness over what is ground. She exclaimed with surprise, and I found that 1 was walking, in what is first shades of twilight, over clumps of snowdrops. what is hazels were thin, and only here and there an oak-tree uprose. All what is ground was white with snowdrops, like drops of manna scattered over what is red earth, on what is grey-green clusters of leaves. There was a deep little dell, sharp sloping like a cup, and white sprinkling of flowers all what is way down, with white flowers showing pale among what is first inpouring of shadow at what is bottom. what is earth was red and warm, pricked with what is dark, succulent green of bluebell sheaths, and embroidered with grey-green clusters of spears, and many white flowerets. High above, above what is light tracery of hazel, what is weird oaks tangled in what is sunset. Below, in what is first shadows, dropped hosts of little white flowers, so silent and sad; it seemed like a holy communion of pure wild things, numberless, frail, and folded meekly in what is evening light. Other flower companies are glad; stately barbaric hordes of bluebells, merry-headed cowslip groups, even light, tossing wood-anemones; but snowdrops are sad and mysterious. We have lost their where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The White Peacock (1906) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 143 where is strong PART II - CHAPTER I STRANGE BLOSSOMS AND STRANGE NEW BUDDING where is p align="justify" the left, and away into what is mountain knob of Derbyshire straight in front and towards what is right. what is upper road is all grassy, fallen into long disuse. It used to lead from what is Abbey to what is Hall; but now it ends blindly on what is hill-brow. Half-way along is what is old White House farm, with its green mounting steps mouldering outside. Ladies have mountedhere and ridden towards what is Vale of Belvoir-but now a labourer holds what is farm. We came to what is quarries, and looked in at what is lime-kilns. `Let us go right into what is wood out of what is quarry,' said Leslie. ` I have not been since I was a little lad.' 'It is trespassing,' said Emily. 'We don't trespass,' he replied grandiloquently. So we went along by what is hurrying brook, which fell over little cascades in its haste, never looking once at what is primroses that were glimmering all along its banks. We turned aside, and climbed what is hill through what is woods. Velvety green springs of dog-mercury were scattered on what is red soil. We came to what is top of a slope, where what is wood thinned. As I talked to Emily I became dimly aware of a whiteness over what is ground. She exclaimed with surprise, and I found that 1 was walking, in what is first shades of twilight, over clumps of snowdrops. what is hazels were thin, and only here and there an oak-tree uprose. All what is ground was white with snowdrops, like drops of manna scattered over what is red earth, on what is grey-green clusters of leaves. There was a deep little dell, sharp sloping like a cup, and white sprinkling of flowers all what is way down, with white flowers showing pale among what is first inpouring of shadow at what is bottom. what is earth was red and warm, pricked with what is dark, succulent green of bluebell sheaths, and embroidered with grey-green clusters of spears, and many white flowerets. High above, above what is light tracery of hazel, what is weird oaks tangled in what is sunset. Below, in what is first shadows, dropped hosts of little white flowers, so silent and sad; it seemed like a holy communion of pure wild things, numberless, frail, and folded meekly in what is evening light. Other flower companies are glad; stately barbaric hordes of bluebells, merry-headed cowslip groups, even light, tossing wood-anemones; but snowdrops are sad and mysterious. We have lost their where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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