Books with author Amanda Millie Douglas

"Oh, what is it, grandad! Why is Kirsty ringing two bells and oh, what is he saying?"Grandfather Carrick had come out of his cottage and stood in the small yard place that a young oak had nearly filled with a carpet of leaves. He was a medium-sized man with reddish hair streaked with white, and a spare reddish beard, rather ragged, bright blue eyes and a nose retroussé at the best, but in moments of temper or disdain it turned almost upside down, as now."What is he sayin'. Well, it's a dirty black lee! Lord Cornwallis isn't the man to give in to a rabble of tatterdemalions with not a shoe to their feet an' hardly a rag to their back! By the beard of St. Patrick they're all rags!" and he gave an insolent laugh! "It's a black lee, I tell you!"He turned and went in the door with a derisive snort. Daffodil stood irresolute. Kirsty was still ringing his two bells and now people were coming out to question. The street was a rather winding lane with the houses set any way, and very primitive 2 they were, built of logs, some of them filled in with rude mortar and thatched with straw.Then Nelly Mullin came flying along, a bright, dark-haired, rosy-cheeked woman, with a shawl about her shoulders. She caught up the child and kissed her rapturously...

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

Hal sat trotting Dot on his knee,—poor little weazen-faced Dot, who was just getting over the dregs of the measles, and cross accordingly. By way of accompaniment he sang all the Mother Goose melodies that he could remember. At last he came to,—"There was an old woman who lived in a shoe: She had so many children she didn't know what to do; To some she gave broth without any bread,"and Harry stopped to catch his breath, for the trotting was of the vigorous order."And a thrashing all round, and sent them to bed!"finished Joe, thrusting his shaggy head in at the window after the fashion of a great Newfoundland dog.Dot answered with a piteous cry,—a sort of prolonged wail, heart-rending indeed."Serve you right," said Joe, going through an imaginary performance with remarkably forcible gestures."For shame, Joe! You were little once yourself, and I dare say cried when you were sick. I always thought it very cruel, that, after being deprived of their supper, they should be"—"Thrashed! Give us good strong Saxon for once, Flossy!"Flossy was of the ambitious, correct, and sentimental order. She had lovely light curls, and soft white hands when she did not have to work too hard, which she never did of her own free will. She thought it dreadful to be so poor, and aspired to a rather aristocratic ladyhood."I am sorry you were not among them," she replied indignantly. "You're a hard-hearted, cruel boy!""When the thrashings went round? You're a c-r-u-e-l girl!" with a prodigious length of accent. "Why, I get plenty of 'em at school.""'Trot, trot, trot. There was an old woman'—what are you laughing at, Joe?" and Hal turned red in the face."I've just made a brilliant discovery. O my poor buttons! remember Flossy's hard labor and many troubles, and do not bust! Why, we're the very children!"At this, Joe gave a sudden lurch: you saw his head, and then you saw his heels, and the patch on the knee of his trousers, ripped partly off by an unlucky nail, flapped in the breeze; and he was seated on the window-sill right side up with care, drumming both bare heels into the broken wall. He gave a prolonged whistle of satisfaction, made big eyes at Dot, and then said again,—"Yes, we are the very children!""What children? Joe, you are the noisiest boy in Christendom!"CONTENTSJoe's Grand DiscoveryPlanning in the TwilightA Chance for FlossyThe Identical ShoeGood Luck for JoeFortunes and MisfortunesThe Old Tumbler, after AllFlorence in StateFourth of JulyWhich should she choose?Out of the Old Home-NestJoe's FortuneFrom Gray Skies to BlueA Flower-Garden IndoorsHow Charlie ran awayAlmost discouragedLost at SeaA Song in the NightIn the Old Home-Nest againWherein the Old Shoe becomes crowdedHow the Dreams came TrueChristmastide

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Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

A Little Girl in Old Washington By Amanda M. Douglas. Published in 1900 and now republish again in ePub file. This book has 21 chapters.CHAPTER I. A NEW HOME."But you will have to take sides," declared Jaqueline Mason, "and it would be ungrateful if you did not take our side. You are going to live here; you really belong to us, you know. Your mother was own cousin to our dear mother, and Patty was named after her——""I don't see why I should be called Patty when you've given up Jack and make such a fuss!" interrupted a slim, unformed girl, who was nearly as tall as the first speaker."Well, Miss Patty, I am sixteen and in long gowns; and next winter I expect to go to balls and parties, and be presented at the White House. Oh, I wish it was a court!"A young fellow, astride the low window seat, laughed with a teasing, bantering sound in his voice, and his deep eyes were alight with mirth.

Christmas came. There was not much made of it here, as there had been in Virginia, no gift-giving, but family dinners that often ended in a regular carouse, sometimes a fight. For Pittsburg had not reached any high point of refinement, and was such a conglomerate that they could hardly be expected to agree on all points.The little girl lost interest presently in watching for her father, and half believed he was not coming. She was very fond of grandad, and Norry, and the wonderful stories she heard about fairies and "little folk," who came to your house at night, and did wonderful things—sometimes spun the whole night long, and at others did bits of mischief. This was when you had offended them some way.She liked the Leprecawn so much. He was a fairy shoemaker, and when all was still in the night you sometimes heard him. "Tip tap, rip rap, Tick a tack too!" And the little Eily, who wished so for red shoes, but her folks were too poor to buy them. So she was to find six four-leaf clovers, and lay them on the doorstep, which she did."What a queer noise there was in the night," said the mother. "It was like this, 'Tip tap, rip rap,'""Sho!" said the father, "it was the swallows in the chimney." Eily held her peace, but she put four-leafed clovers again on the doorstep, and tried to keep awake, so she could hear the little shoemaker."I'll clear them swallows out of the chimney, they disturb me so," declared the father, and he got a long pole and scraped down several nests. But the next night the sound came again, and the mother began to feel afeared. But when Eily went downstairs there was a pair of little red shoes standing in the corner, and Eily caught them up and kissed them, she was so full of joy. Then her mother said, "The Leprecawn has been here. And, Eily, you must never wear them out of doors at the full of the moon, or you'll be carried off."

Or they took the bayside with its circle of hills, its far-off mountains, its dots of cities yet to be. Angel Island and Yerba Buena where the first settlement was made, growing so slowly that in ten years not more than twenty or thirty houses lined the beach. Or they boarded the various small steamers, plying across or up and down the bay. Miss Holmes did object somewhat to this form of Sunday entertainment. There was always a motley assemblage, and often rough language. Men who had come from decent homes and proper training seemed to lay it aside in the rush and 45excitement. Yet that there were many fine, earnest, strong men among those early emigrants was most true; men who saw the grand possibilities of this western coast as no eastern stay-at-home could.Was the old legend true that some mighty cataclysm had rent the rocks apart and the rivers that had flowed into the bay found an outlet to the sea? Up at the northern end was San Pablo Bay into which emptied the Sacramento and its tributaries, and a beautiful fertile country spreading out in a series of brilliant pictures, which was to be the home of thousands later on.And from here one had a fine view of the city, fast rising into prominence on its many hills as it lay basking in the brilliant sunshine. Irregular and full of small green glens which now had burst into luxuriant herbage and were glowing with gayest bloom, and diversified with low shrubbery; then from the middle down great belts of timber at intervals, but that portion of the city best known now was from Yerba Buena Cove, from North Beach to Mission Cove. Already it was thriving, and buildings sprang up every day as if by magic, and the busy people breathed an enchanted air that incited them to purposes that would have been called wildest dreams at the sober East.The little girl looked out on the changeful picture and held tight to her uncle's hand as the throngs from all parts of the world, and in strange attire, passed and repassed her, giving now and then a sharp glance which brought the bright color to her face. For the Spanish families kept their little girls under close supervision, as they went decorously to and from church on Sunday; the dirty, forlorn Indian and half-breed children hardly attracted a moment's notice, except to be kicked or cuffed out of the way. More than one man glanced at Jason Chadsey with envious eyes, and remembered a little girl at home for whom he was striving to make a fortune.A Little Girl in Old San Francisco, From Maine to California, A Different Outloo, Ethics and Etiquette, A Wedding and a Parting, The Decision of Fate, An Enchanted Journey

The Savedras are prosperous and happy, and have a lovely home out of the turmoil and confusion, where beautiful nature reigns supreme. And an old, white-haired man, rather bent in the shoulders, tells a group of pretty, joyous children about the Old San Francisco of half a century before, and the long search of Jason after the Golden Fleece and the little girl that he loved so well. They go up Telegraph Hill and say, "Was it here she and Pablo made the little lake for Balder,was it here she climbed up the crooked paths and tamed birds and squirrels, and here that Bruno killed the cruel fox?" It is more wonderful than any fairy story to them.