Home Life in Colonial Days

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Macmillan, 1899 - 470 oldal

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61. oldal - The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall ; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons...
60. oldal - We piled with care our nightly stack Of wood against the chimney-back,— The oaken log, green, huge, and thick, And on its top the stout back-stick; The knotty forestick laid apart, And filled between with curious art The ragged brush; then hovering near, We watched the first red blaze appear, Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam On whitewashed wall and sagging beam, Until the old, rude-furnished room Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom...
435. oldal - Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; Blow upon my garden, That the spices thereof may flow out.
311. oldal - Thus the Birch Canoe was builded In the valley, by the river, In the bosom of the forest; And the forest's life was in it, All its mystery and its magic, All the lightness of the birch-tree, All the toughness of the cedar, All the larch's supple sinews; And it floated on the river Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, Like a yellow water-lily.
290. oldal - The pocket-knife. To that his wistful eye Turns, while he hears his mother's lullaby ; His hoarded cents he gladly gives to get it, Then leaves no stone unturned till he can whet it ; And in the education of the lad No little part that implement hath had. His pocket-knife to the young whittler brings A growing knowledge of material things. Projectiles, music, and the sculptor's art, His chestnut whistle and his shingle dart, His elder pop-gun with its hickory rod, Its sharp explosion and rebounding...
399. oldal - And saw the teamsters drawing near To break the drifted highways out. Down the long hillside treading slow We saw the half-buried oxen go, Shaking the snow from heads uptost, Their straining nostrils white with frost.
19. oldal - ... they are such candles as the Indians commonly use, having no other, and they are nothing else but the wood of the pine tree cloven in two little slices something thin, which are so full of the moisture of turpentine and pitch that they burn as clear as a torch.
146. oldal - Powel's with and many others; a most sinful feast again! everything which could delight the eye or allure the taste; curds and creams, jellies, sweetmeats of various sorts, twenty sorts of tarts, fools, trifles, floating islands, whipped sillibub &c., &c. Parmesan cheese, punch, wine, porter, beer, etc.
367. oldal - This was our Church, till we built a homely thing like a barne, set upon cratchets, covered with rafts, sedge and earth...
60. oldal - Shut in from all the world without, We sat the clean-winged hearth about. Content to let the north- wind roar In baffled rage at pane and door, While the red logs before us beat The frost-line back with tropic heat...

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