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The Island House A Tale for the Young Folks By: F. M. (Frederic Morell) Holmes (1851-) |
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THE ISLAND HOUSE A Tale for the Young Folks.
BY F. M. HOLMES, AUTHOR OF "THE BELL BUOY;" "JACK MARSTON'S ANCHOR;" "THE WHITE SLEDGE,"
ETC.
Publishers S. W. Partridge & Co., Ltd. London 1898
BOOKS IN THE SAME SERIES "ROAST POTATOES!"
ONLY A GIRL!
DICK AND HIS DONKEY
RED DAVE
THE LITTLE WOODMAN
A LITTLE TOWN MOUSE
THE ISLAND HOUSE
THE CHILDREN OF THE MARSHES
A DOUBLE VICTORY
LEFT IN CHARGE
A SUNDAY TRIP
"IN A MINUTE!"
FARTHING DIPS
TIMFY SYKES
LONDON S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO, LTD. MADE IN GREAT BRITAIN.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. OLD MANSY HEARS SOMETHING
II. TO THE LABURNUM TREE
III. THE YOUNG NAVIGATOR
IV. "WHAT HAVE YOU HEARD?"
V. WITH TIED WRISTS
VI. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR
ILLUSTRATIONS
"I do believe there's Miss Edith at the window!" . . . Frontispiece "Alfy and Mansy made quite an enjoyable meal." "On floated the tub, leaving him alone in the tree!" "'I wonder if I could undo these knots with my teeth? I will try.'"
THE ISLAND HOUSE.
CHAPTER I. OLD MANSY HEARS SOMETHING. "I think I'll get out here, young man." "All right, missus." The old carrier stopped his jolting cart an easy thing to do, for the
wearied horse was glad of the chance of halting and the passenger
leisurely descended. With her descended also a bulging umbrella and
numerous packages. "Good night, young man!" she exclaimed. She thought this a very polite
way of addressing men whom she regarded as somewhat beneath her in
social station. But he did not answer. He was urging on his sleepy horse, and though
it was an easy matter to stop that interesting quadruped, yet it was a
very different thing to make him go on again. So she started off down a road leading out of the turnpike thoroughfare
on which the carrier was travelling. She was a tall, somewhat angular woman, with determination written on
her face. In one hand she carried a number of parcels mysteriously
tied together, and in the other hand her very bulgy umbrella, which she
used as a walking stick, and staffed her way with it solemnly along the
dim country road. It was a summer evening, and there had been a heavy storm during the
day. "Dear! dear! how dirty it be, sure ly ," she said, as she
proceeded. "Bad enough to be dirty in winter, but in summer it's
disgraceful! Ha! how sweet that woodbine do smell! Now, if I could
get a piece for the children!" She stopped and began to poke about in the hedge with her bulging
umbrella. At last, after much reaching and pulling, she obtained a
small piece of the sweet smelling honeysuckle, stuck it in her large,
old fashioned bonnet, where it nodded like a plume, and pursued her way
in triumph. "Soon be home now," she said, to encourage herself. "Won't Master Alfy
be pleased with the woodbine!" Suddenly she paused again. What was that noise? She was at the corner of a lane branching off from the road she had
been pursuing. Dimly in her ears sounded a low, sullen roar a roar
something like the murmuring noise of a mighty city heard in a quiet
and distant suburb. But here was no mighty city. She was deep in the heart of the quiet
country. What was that noise? "I never heerd the like afore at this place," she muttered to herself.
"Anyhow, I'll get on home. I shan't be long now!" A few turns in the road brought her in sight of the house. But she
stood suddenly quite still, and stared in amazement and alarm. Was
that indeed the house she had left quite safely in the smiling sunlight
of yesterday morning? Now, she saw a turbid sheet of water surrounding it; and here and there
the tops of shrubs and trees and hedges, looking strange and melancholy
as they rose out of the flood. The dull roar she had heard previously
now sounded louder than before, but she did not think of that. The
children were her anxiety. "Where are the children?" she cried. The excitement and alarm wrought upon her feelings, and she screamed
aloud "Children! children! Where are the children?" Perhaps it was the best thing she could have done... Continue reading book >>
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Genres for this book |
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Fiction |
Teen/Young adult |
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Wikipedia – F. M. (Frederic Morell) Holmes |
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