ZOE, The History of Two Lives (Vols. 1-3)
An excerpt from the beginning of:
VOLUME I
CHAPTER I
On the fourteenth of June, 17--, the little town of Sutton, in Warwickshire, was thrown into a state of violent excitement by the news, that the son of the old squire who "used to belong to the old Manor House, was to have his own again", that he had married in foreign parts some grand lady, - a princess at the very least according to some versions, - that the king had written him a letter with his own hand begging him to come to England, and making him welcome to the old house, and all the land, that had been in the family for generations and generations!
This astounding report was set forth on the market-day by old Peter Brocclehurst, the tailor, who had heard it read with his own ears out of a newspaper, in a public-house at Birmingham, where he had been the day before to lay in a supply of West of England broadcloths, and "superfine narrow", for the exigencies of his profession for the next six months. Old Brocclehurst was not an authority to be lightly called in question, for from the sanctuary where he sat enthroned on his shop-board, stitching at the tough corduroys of all the ploughboys and farmers for six miles round, issued also the news, scandal, marvellous occurrences, useful information of all sorts, that went to enlighten the ignorance, and refresh the united intellect of all Sutton. If his on dits were not all exactly true, any news, as he said, was better than none at all.
This report about the squire and the Manor House, however, far exceeded in interest the general run of his facts; and on the day in question the little miscellaneous shop over which the full-blown Mrs Brocclehurst presided, with her matronly charms shrouded in a Brobdingnagian pinafore, was, to use her own words, "thronged like a fair", with people eager, by becoming customers for "a yard of check", or an "ounce of worsted", to learn the mystery of this wonderful history.
Mrs Brocclehurst was a gossip to the very marrow of her soul, but like Mrs Gilpin, "she had a prudent mind", and measured out her information according to the importance of the customer: - a few, a select few, were allowed to penetrate to the little back kitchen where Peter sat in all his glory, gravely coquetting with the important news he had brought, by seeming more taciturn and intent on his work than he had been in the memory of man.
"Well, patience - patience and time will show, but there are such lies going about in the world," said Peter, virtuously, shaking his head, and looking to the ceiling, "an honest man does not know what to believe and what to let alone. But sure enough I heard that the son of the old squire - him who went into hiding on account of the Jacobin troubles - had been sent for back by the king, who said that bygones should be bygones, and that he would forgive and forget; and that he might come to the old place; which was very handsome, considering!"
The next market-day, Peter, whose zeal for collecting information was great enough to make him worthy of being a correspondent of the "Times", was able, from sources best known to himself, to inform his customers, that workmen were to come over from Birmingham next week, to repair the old house and put all things in order; - for the credit of Peter's veracity, all this came actually to pass.
The Manor House, like all old houses that have been long uninhabited, and stand in the midst of a garden that has become a wilderness, had the reputation of being haunted; no one cared to go near it even in broad daylight; as to going within half a mile of the park-gate after dark, it was a thing not to be contemplated if there were any other path open, and not all the charms of nutting and bird-nesting could tempt the most venturous urchin that ever played truant, beyond the park-palings.
Now, however, all was changed. The presence of the workmen dispelled the idea of ghosts as if by magic. All Sutton rushed to see what the mysteries were that had been so long concealed; - though when they approached the stately avenue of chestnut and lime trees, at the end of which stood the long, deep, red-coloured brick building, with its four castellated gable ends in front, its immense stacks of heavy chimneys overgrown with ivy, and its narrow windows carefully darkened by curious balconies of carved stone - a shudder came over the more timid, as if some evil spirit had taken shape in brick and stone; but not even the boldest had courage to venture through the winding passages and secret places which were brought to light by the masons and upholsterers.
The moat, which was filled with stagnant water, covered all over with duck-weed, was to be filled up and converted into a flower garden, with a pond for gold fish in the centre, which some of the rustic visiters imagined were to be, bona fide, made of guineas.
1112999396
VOLUME I
CHAPTER I
On the fourteenth of June, 17--, the little town of Sutton, in Warwickshire, was thrown into a state of violent excitement by the news, that the son of the old squire who "used to belong to the old Manor House, was to have his own again", that he had married in foreign parts some grand lady, - a princess at the very least according to some versions, - that the king had written him a letter with his own hand begging him to come to England, and making him welcome to the old house, and all the land, that had been in the family for generations and generations!
This astounding report was set forth on the market-day by old Peter Brocclehurst, the tailor, who had heard it read with his own ears out of a newspaper, in a public-house at Birmingham, where he had been the day before to lay in a supply of West of England broadcloths, and "superfine narrow", for the exigencies of his profession for the next six months. Old Brocclehurst was not an authority to be lightly called in question, for from the sanctuary where he sat enthroned on his shop-board, stitching at the tough corduroys of all the ploughboys and farmers for six miles round, issued also the news, scandal, marvellous occurrences, useful information of all sorts, that went to enlighten the ignorance, and refresh the united intellect of all Sutton. If his on dits were not all exactly true, any news, as he said, was better than none at all.
This report about the squire and the Manor House, however, far exceeded in interest the general run of his facts; and on the day in question the little miscellaneous shop over which the full-blown Mrs Brocclehurst presided, with her matronly charms shrouded in a Brobdingnagian pinafore, was, to use her own words, "thronged like a fair", with people eager, by becoming customers for "a yard of check", or an "ounce of worsted", to learn the mystery of this wonderful history.
Mrs Brocclehurst was a gossip to the very marrow of her soul, but like Mrs Gilpin, "she had a prudent mind", and measured out her information according to the importance of the customer: - a few, a select few, were allowed to penetrate to the little back kitchen where Peter sat in all his glory, gravely coquetting with the important news he had brought, by seeming more taciturn and intent on his work than he had been in the memory of man.
"Well, patience - patience and time will show, but there are such lies going about in the world," said Peter, virtuously, shaking his head, and looking to the ceiling, "an honest man does not know what to believe and what to let alone. But sure enough I heard that the son of the old squire - him who went into hiding on account of the Jacobin troubles - had been sent for back by the king, who said that bygones should be bygones, and that he would forgive and forget; and that he might come to the old place; which was very handsome, considering!"
The next market-day, Peter, whose zeal for collecting information was great enough to make him worthy of being a correspondent of the "Times", was able, from sources best known to himself, to inform his customers, that workmen were to come over from Birmingham next week, to repair the old house and put all things in order; - for the credit of Peter's veracity, all this came actually to pass.
The Manor House, like all old houses that have been long uninhabited, and stand in the midst of a garden that has become a wilderness, had the reputation of being haunted; no one cared to go near it even in broad daylight; as to going within half a mile of the park-gate after dark, it was a thing not to be contemplated if there were any other path open, and not all the charms of nutting and bird-nesting could tempt the most venturous urchin that ever played truant, beyond the park-palings.
Now, however, all was changed. The presence of the workmen dispelled the idea of ghosts as if by magic. All Sutton rushed to see what the mysteries were that had been so long concealed; - though when they approached the stately avenue of chestnut and lime trees, at the end of which stood the long, deep, red-coloured brick building, with its four castellated gable ends in front, its immense stacks of heavy chimneys overgrown with ivy, and its narrow windows carefully darkened by curious balconies of carved stone - a shudder came over the more timid, as if some evil spirit had taken shape in brick and stone; but not even the boldest had courage to venture through the winding passages and secret places which were brought to light by the masons and upholsterers.
The moat, which was filled with stagnant water, covered all over with duck-weed, was to be filled up and converted into a flower garden, with a pond for gold fish in the centre, which some of the rustic visiters imagined were to be, bona fide, made of guineas.
ZOE, The History of Two Lives (Vols. 1-3)
An excerpt from the beginning of:
VOLUME I
CHAPTER I
On the fourteenth of June, 17--, the little town of Sutton, in Warwickshire, was thrown into a state of violent excitement by the news, that the son of the old squire who "used to belong to the old Manor House, was to have his own again", that he had married in foreign parts some grand lady, - a princess at the very least according to some versions, - that the king had written him a letter with his own hand begging him to come to England, and making him welcome to the old house, and all the land, that had been in the family for generations and generations!
This astounding report was set forth on the market-day by old Peter Brocclehurst, the tailor, who had heard it read with his own ears out of a newspaper, in a public-house at Birmingham, where he had been the day before to lay in a supply of West of England broadcloths, and "superfine narrow", for the exigencies of his profession for the next six months. Old Brocclehurst was not an authority to be lightly called in question, for from the sanctuary where he sat enthroned on his shop-board, stitching at the tough corduroys of all the ploughboys and farmers for six miles round, issued also the news, scandal, marvellous occurrences, useful information of all sorts, that went to enlighten the ignorance, and refresh the united intellect of all Sutton. If his on dits were not all exactly true, any news, as he said, was better than none at all.
This report about the squire and the Manor House, however, far exceeded in interest the general run of his facts; and on the day in question the little miscellaneous shop over which the full-blown Mrs Brocclehurst presided, with her matronly charms shrouded in a Brobdingnagian pinafore, was, to use her own words, "thronged like a fair", with people eager, by becoming customers for "a yard of check", or an "ounce of worsted", to learn the mystery of this wonderful history.
Mrs Brocclehurst was a gossip to the very marrow of her soul, but like Mrs Gilpin, "she had a prudent mind", and measured out her information according to the importance of the customer: - a few, a select few, were allowed to penetrate to the little back kitchen where Peter sat in all his glory, gravely coquetting with the important news he had brought, by seeming more taciturn and intent on his work than he had been in the memory of man.
"Well, patience - patience and time will show, but there are such lies going about in the world," said Peter, virtuously, shaking his head, and looking to the ceiling, "an honest man does not know what to believe and what to let alone. But sure enough I heard that the son of the old squire - him who went into hiding on account of the Jacobin troubles - had been sent for back by the king, who said that bygones should be bygones, and that he would forgive and forget; and that he might come to the old place; which was very handsome, considering!"
The next market-day, Peter, whose zeal for collecting information was great enough to make him worthy of being a correspondent of the "Times", was able, from sources best known to himself, to inform his customers, that workmen were to come over from Birmingham next week, to repair the old house and put all things in order; - for the credit of Peter's veracity, all this came actually to pass.
The Manor House, like all old houses that have been long uninhabited, and stand in the midst of a garden that has become a wilderness, had the reputation of being haunted; no one cared to go near it even in broad daylight; as to going within half a mile of the park-gate after dark, it was a thing not to be contemplated if there were any other path open, and not all the charms of nutting and bird-nesting could tempt the most venturous urchin that ever played truant, beyond the park-palings.
Now, however, all was changed. The presence of the workmen dispelled the idea of ghosts as if by magic. All Sutton rushed to see what the mysteries were that had been so long concealed; - though when they approached the stately avenue of chestnut and lime trees, at the end of which stood the long, deep, red-coloured brick building, with its four castellated gable ends in front, its immense stacks of heavy chimneys overgrown with ivy, and its narrow windows carefully darkened by curious balconies of carved stone - a shudder came over the more timid, as if some evil spirit had taken shape in brick and stone; but not even the boldest had courage to venture through the winding passages and secret places which were brought to light by the masons and upholsterers.
The moat, which was filled with stagnant water, covered all over with duck-weed, was to be filled up and converted into a flower garden, with a pond for gold fish in the centre, which some of the rustic visiters imagined were to be, bona fide, made of guineas.
VOLUME I
CHAPTER I
On the fourteenth of June, 17--, the little town of Sutton, in Warwickshire, was thrown into a state of violent excitement by the news, that the son of the old squire who "used to belong to the old Manor House, was to have his own again", that he had married in foreign parts some grand lady, - a princess at the very least according to some versions, - that the king had written him a letter with his own hand begging him to come to England, and making him welcome to the old house, and all the land, that had been in the family for generations and generations!
This astounding report was set forth on the market-day by old Peter Brocclehurst, the tailor, who had heard it read with his own ears out of a newspaper, in a public-house at Birmingham, where he had been the day before to lay in a supply of West of England broadcloths, and "superfine narrow", for the exigencies of his profession for the next six months. Old Brocclehurst was not an authority to be lightly called in question, for from the sanctuary where he sat enthroned on his shop-board, stitching at the tough corduroys of all the ploughboys and farmers for six miles round, issued also the news, scandal, marvellous occurrences, useful information of all sorts, that went to enlighten the ignorance, and refresh the united intellect of all Sutton. If his on dits were not all exactly true, any news, as he said, was better than none at all.
This report about the squire and the Manor House, however, far exceeded in interest the general run of his facts; and on the day in question the little miscellaneous shop over which the full-blown Mrs Brocclehurst presided, with her matronly charms shrouded in a Brobdingnagian pinafore, was, to use her own words, "thronged like a fair", with people eager, by becoming customers for "a yard of check", or an "ounce of worsted", to learn the mystery of this wonderful history.
Mrs Brocclehurst was a gossip to the very marrow of her soul, but like Mrs Gilpin, "she had a prudent mind", and measured out her information according to the importance of the customer: - a few, a select few, were allowed to penetrate to the little back kitchen where Peter sat in all his glory, gravely coquetting with the important news he had brought, by seeming more taciturn and intent on his work than he had been in the memory of man.
"Well, patience - patience and time will show, but there are such lies going about in the world," said Peter, virtuously, shaking his head, and looking to the ceiling, "an honest man does not know what to believe and what to let alone. But sure enough I heard that the son of the old squire - him who went into hiding on account of the Jacobin troubles - had been sent for back by the king, who said that bygones should be bygones, and that he would forgive and forget; and that he might come to the old place; which was very handsome, considering!"
The next market-day, Peter, whose zeal for collecting information was great enough to make him worthy of being a correspondent of the "Times", was able, from sources best known to himself, to inform his customers, that workmen were to come over from Birmingham next week, to repair the old house and put all things in order; - for the credit of Peter's veracity, all this came actually to pass.
The Manor House, like all old houses that have been long uninhabited, and stand in the midst of a garden that has become a wilderness, had the reputation of being haunted; no one cared to go near it even in broad daylight; as to going within half a mile of the park-gate after dark, it was a thing not to be contemplated if there were any other path open, and not all the charms of nutting and bird-nesting could tempt the most venturous urchin that ever played truant, beyond the park-palings.
Now, however, all was changed. The presence of the workmen dispelled the idea of ghosts as if by magic. All Sutton rushed to see what the mysteries were that had been so long concealed; - though when they approached the stately avenue of chestnut and lime trees, at the end of which stood the long, deep, red-coloured brick building, with its four castellated gable ends in front, its immense stacks of heavy chimneys overgrown with ivy, and its narrow windows carefully darkened by curious balconies of carved stone - a shudder came over the more timid, as if some evil spirit had taken shape in brick and stone; but not even the boldest had courage to venture through the winding passages and secret places which were brought to light by the masons and upholsterers.
The moat, which was filled with stagnant water, covered all over with duck-weed, was to be filled up and converted into a flower garden, with a pond for gold fish in the centre, which some of the rustic visiters imagined were to be, bona fide, made of guineas.
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ZOE, The History of Two Lives (Vols. 1-3)
ZOE, The History of Two Lives (Vols. 1-3)
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940015604702 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | OGB |
| Publication date: | 09/22/2012 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 843 KB |
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