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- Author: Frederick Palmer
- Publisher: Kessinger Publishing
- ISBN-10: 0548572100
- ISBN-13: 9780548572108
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 2.3 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English
- SAVE -10% with code: EXTRA
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Description
Excerpt from The Old Blood: Perhaps a real story-teller, who leaps into the heart of things, would have begun this story in France instead of with a railroad journey from the Southwest to New England; perhaps he would have taken the view of "our Philip's" mother that Phil fought the whole war in Europe himself; perhaps given the story the name of "The Plain Girl," leaving to Phil a secondary place.
A veracious chronicler, consulting Phil's wishes, makes his beginning with a spring afternoon of 1914, when the Berkshire slopes were dripping and glistening and smiling, and the air, washed by showers and purified by a burst of sunshine, was like some rare vintage which might be drunk only on the premises.
Complaining in a familiar way as it followed the course of a winding stream, which laughed in flashes of pearly white over rocky shallows, the train ran out into a broad valley - the home valley. Not a road that he had not tramped over; not a woodland path that he did not know; not a mountain trail that he had not climbed.
EXTRA 10 % discount with code: EXTRA
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- Author: Frederick Palmer
- Publisher: Kessinger Publishing
- ISBN-10: 0548572100
- ISBN-13: 9780548572108
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 2.3 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English English
Excerpt from The Old Blood: Perhaps a real story-teller, who leaps into the heart of things, would have begun this story in France instead of with a railroad journey from the Southwest to New England; perhaps he would have taken the view of "our Philip's" mother that Phil fought the whole war in Europe himself; perhaps given the story the name of "The Plain Girl," leaving to Phil a secondary place.
A veracious chronicler, consulting Phil's wishes, makes his beginning with a spring afternoon of 1914, when the Berkshire slopes were dripping and glistening and smiling, and the air, washed by showers and purified by a burst of sunshine, was like some rare vintage which might be drunk only on the premises.
Complaining in a familiar way as it followed the course of a winding stream, which laughed in flashes of pearly white over rocky shallows, the train ran out into a broad valley - the home valley. Not a road that he had not tramped over; not a woodland path that he did not know; not a mountain trail that he had not climbed.
Reviews