Help Protect d fast, and he hurried Jan along with him. Who are your parents he asked. The service had recalled Jan s highest associations, and he was anxious to tell the strict truth. I don t rightly know, sir, said he. Are you hungry Yes, sir, sobbed poor Jan. They were stopping before a large house, and the gentleman said, Look here, my boy. If you had a good home, and good food, and clothes, would you work Would you try to be a good lad, and learn an honest trade I d be glad, sir, said Jan. Have you ever worked What can you do asked the gentleman. I can mind pigs but I do think twould be best for I to be in a mill, and I ve got a miller s thumb. Jan said this because the idea had struck him that if he could only get home again he might hire himself out at a mop to Master Lake. A traditional belief in the force of the law of hiring made him think that respiratory masks nursing this would protect him against any claim of the Cheap Jack. Before the gentleman could reply, the house door was opened by a boy some years older than Jan, who was despatched to fetch the master. Jan felt sure that it must be a school, though he was puzzled by the contents of the room in which they waited. It was filled with pretty specimens of joiner s and cabinet maker s work, some quite and some partly finished. There were also brushes of various kinds, so that, if there had been a suitable window, Jan would have concluded that it was a shop. In two or three moments the master s step sounded in the passage. Jan had pleasant associations with the word master, and he looked up with some vague fancy of seeing a second Master Swift. Not that Master Swift, or any one else in the slow going little village, ever walked with this sharp, hasty tread, as if one hoped to overtake time With such a step the gentleman himself went away, when he had said to Jan, Be a good boy, my lad, and attend to your master, and he ll be a good friend to you. He was not in the least like Master Swift. He was young, and youthfully dressed. A schoolmaster with neither spectacles nor a black coat was a new idea to Jan but he seemed to be kind, for, with a sharp look at Jan s pinched face, he said, You ll be glad of some breakfast, my lad, I fancy and breakfast s only just over. Come along. And away he went at double quick time down the passage, and Jan ran after him. On their way to the kitchen, they crossed an open court where boys were playing, and round which ran mottoes in large letters. You can read help protect said the master, quickly, as he caught Jan s eyes following the texts. Have you ever been to school Yes, sir, said Jan. Can you write What else have you learned Jan pondered his stock of accomplishments. I can write, sir, and cipher. And I ve learned geography and history, help protect and Master Swift gave I lessons i.h his clothes and help protect take care of his sticks. He had a great interest in the growth of his moustache and whiskers. For some time past Master Arthur had had a trick of pulling at his upper lip whilst he was teaching which occasionally provoked a whisper of Moostarch, guvernor between two unruly members of his class but never till to night had Bill seen anything in that line which 197 answered his expectations. Now, however, as he stood before the young gentleman, the fire light fell on such a distinct growth of hair, that Bill s interest became absorbed to the exclusion of all but the most perfunctory attention to the lesson on hand. Would Master Arthur grow a beard Would his moustache be short like the pictures of Prince Albert, or long and pointed like that of some other great man whose portrait he had seen in the papers He was calculating on the probable effect of either style, when the order was given to put away books, and then the thought which had been for a time diverted came back again his walk home. Poor Bill his fears returned with double force from having been for awhile forgotten. He dawdled over the books, he hunted in wrong places for his cap and comforter, he lingered till the last boy had clattered through the doorway, and left him with a group of elders who closed the proceedings and locked up the school. But after this further delay was impossible. The whole party moved out into the moonlight, and the Rector and his son, the schoolmaster and the teachers, commenced, a sedate parish gossip, whilst Bill trotted behind, wondering whether any possible or impossible business would take one of them his way. But when the turning point was reached, the Rector destroyed all his hopes. 198 None of us go your way, I think, said he, as lightly as if there were no grievance in the case however, it what does niosh n95 mean s not far. Good night, my boy And so with a volley of good nights, the cheerful voices passed on up the village. Bill stood till they had quite died away, and then when all was silent, he turned into the lane. The medical surgical face masks cold night wind crept into his ears, and made uncomfortable noises among the trees, and blew clouds over the face of the moon. He almost wished that there were no moon. The shifting shadows under his feet, and the sudden patches of light on unexpected objects, startled him, and he thought he should have felt less frightened if it had been quite dark. Once he ran for a bit, then he resolved to be brave, then to be reasonable he repeated scraps of lessons, hymns, and last Sunday s Collect, to divert and compose his mind and as this plan seemed to answer, he determined to go through the Catechism, both question and answer, which he hoped might carry him to the end of his unpleasant journey. He had just asked hims.
a second I hesitated, then walked over and opened the sash. The creature fluttered out, whirred over the flower beds a moment, then darted across the moorland toward the sea. I called the servants together and questioned them. Josephine, Catherine, Jean Marie Tregunc, not one of them had heard the slightest disturbance during the night. Then I told Jean Marie to saddle my horse, and while I was speaking Lys came down. Dearest, I began, going to her. You must tell me everything you know, Dick, she interrupted, looking me earnestly in the face. But there is nothing to tell only a drunken brawl, and some one wounded. And you are going to ride where, Dick Well, over to the edge of Kerselec forest. Durand and the mayor, and Max Fortin, have gone on, following a a trail. What trail Some blood. Where did they find it Out in the road there. Lys crossed herself. Does it come near our house Yes. How near It comes up to the morning room window, said I, giving in. Her hand on my arm grew heavy. I dreamed last night So did I but I thought of the empty cartridges in my revolver, and stopped. I dreamed that you were in great danger, and I could not move hand or foot to save you but you had your revolver, and I called out to you to fire I did fire I cried excitedly. You you fired I took her in my arms. My darling, I said something strange has happened something that I cannot understand as yet. But, of course, there is an explanation. Last night I thought I fired at the Black Priest. Ah gasped Lys. Is that what you dreamed Yes, yes, that was it I begged you to fire And I did. Her heart was beating against my breast. I held her close in silence. Dick, she said at length, perhaps you killed the the thing. If it was human I did not miss, I answered grimly. And it was human, I went on, pulling myself together, ashamed of having so nearly gone to pieces. Of course it was human The whole affair is plain enough. Not a drunken brawl, as Durand thinks it was a drunken lout s practical joke, for which he has suffered. I suppose I must have filled him help protect pretty full of bullets, and he has crawled away to die in Kerselec forest. It s a terrible affair I m sorry I fired so hastily but that idiot Le Bihan and Max Fortin have been working on my nerves till I am as hysterical as a schoolgirl, I ended angrily. You fired but the window glass was not shattered, said Lys in a low voice. Well, the window was open, then. And as for the the rest I ve got nervous indigestion, and a doctor will settle the Black Priest for me, Lys. I glanced out of the window at Tregunc waiting with my horse at the gate. Dearest, I think I had better go to join Durand and the others. I will go, too. Oh, no Yes, Dick. Don t, Lys. I shall suffer every moment you are away. The ri.have been of necessity omitted because of the limitations of space. D.S. New York, March, 1921. The Willows By ALGERNON BLACKWOOD From The Listener, by Algernon Blackwood. Published in America by E.P. Dutton, and in England by Everleigh Nash, Ltd. By permission of the publishers and Algernon Blackwood. chapter 1 After leaving Vienna, and long before you come to Buda Pesth, the Danube enters a region of singular loneliness and desolation, where its waters spread away on all sides help protect regardless of a main channel, and the country becomes a swamp for miles upon miles, covered by a vast sea of low willow bushes. On the big maps this deserted area is painted in a fluffy blue, growing fainter in nose and mouth mask for dust color as it leaves the banks, and across it may be seen in large straggling letters the word S uuml mpfe, meaning marshes. In high flood this great acreage of sand, shingle beds, and willow grown islands is almost topped by the water, but in normal seasons the bushes bend and rustle in the free winds, showing their silver leaves to the sunshine in an ever moving plain of bewildering beauty. These willows never attain to the dignity of trees they have no rigid trunks they remain humble bushes, with rounded tops and soft outline, swaying on slender stems that answer to the least pressure of the wind supple as grasses, and so continually shifting that they somehow give the impression that the entire plain is moving and alive. For the wind sends waves rising and falling over the whole surface, waves of leaves instead of waves of water, green swells like the sea, too, until the branches turn and lift, and then silvery white as their under side turns to the sun. Happy to slip beyond the control of stern banks, the Danube here wanders about at will among the intricate network of channels intersecting the islands everywhere with broad avenues down which the waters pour with a shouting sound making whirlpools, eddies, and foaming rapids tearing at the sandy banks carrying away masses of shore and willow clumps and forming new islands innumerable which shift daily in size and shape and possess at best an impermanent life, since the flood time obliterates their very existence. Properly speaking, help protect this fascinating part of the river s life begins soon half mask respirator with hepa filter after leaving Pressburg, and we, in our Canadian canoe, with gipsy tent and frying pan on board, reached it on the crest of a rising flood about mid July. That very same morning, when the sky was reddening before sunrise, we had slipped swiftly through still sleeping Vienna, leaving it a couple of hours later a mere patch of smoke against the blue hills of the Wienerwald on the horizon we had breakfasted below Fischeramend under a grove of birch trees roaring in the wind and had then swept on the tea.ke Edward, burst out Rebecca in a sort of frenzy of fear. Only Yes, it does, assented Mrs. Brigham, whose horror stricken tone matched her sisters , only Oh, it is awful What is it, Caroline I ask you again, how should I know replied Caroline. I see it there like you. How should I know any more than you It must be something help protect in the room, said Mrs. Brigham, staring wildly around. We moved everything in the room the first night it came, said Rebecca it is not anything in the room. Caroline turned upon her with a sort of fury. Of course it is something in the room, said she. How you act What do you mean talking so Of course it is something in the room. Of course it is, agreed Mrs. Brigham, looking at Caroline suspiciously. It must be something in the room. It is not anything in the room, repeated Rebecca with obstinate horror. The door opened suddenly and Henry Glynn entered. He began to speak, then his eyes followed the direction of the others. He stood staring at the shadow on the wall. What is that he demanded in a strange voice. It must be due to something in the room, Mrs. Brigham said faintly. Henry Glynn stood and stared a moment longer. His face showed a gamut of emotions. Horror, conviction, then furious incredulity. Suddenly he began hastening hither and thither about the room. He moved the furniture with fierce jerks, turning ever to see the effect upon the shadow on the wall. Not a line of its terrible outlines wavered. It must be something in the room he declared in a voice which seemed to snap like a lash. His face changed, the inmost secrecy of his nature seemed evident upon his face, until one almost lost sight of his lineaments. Rebecca stood close to her sofa, regarding him with woeful, fascinated eyes. Mrs. Brigham clutched Caroline s hand. They both stood in a corner out of his way. For a few moments he raged about the room like a caged wild animal. He moved every piece of furniture when the moving of a piece did not affect the shadow he flung it to the floor. Then suddenly he desisted. He laughed. What an absurdity, he said easily. Such a what is the best n95 mask to do about a shadow. That s so, assented Mrs. Brigham, in a scared voice which she tried to make natural. As she spoke she lifted a chair near her. I think you have broken the chair that Edward was fond ffp1 dust mask of, said Caroline. help protect Terror and wrath were struggling for expression on her face. Her mouth was set, her eyes shrinking. Henry lifted the chair with a show of anxiety. Just as good as ever, he said pleasantly. He laughed again, looking at his sisters. Did I scare you he said. I should think you might be used to me by this time. You know my way of wanting to leap to the bottom of a mystery, and that shadow does look queer, like and I thought if there was any way of a.
Help Protect have been of necessity omitted because of the limitations of space. D.S. New York, March, 1921. The Willows By ALGERNON BLACKWOOD From The Listener, by Algernon Blackwood. Published in America by E.P. Dutton, and in England by Everleigh Nash, Ltd. By permission of the publishers and Algernon Blackwood. chapter 1 After leaving Vienna, and long before you come to help protect Buda Pesth, the Danube enters a region of singular loneliness and desolation, where its waters spread away reusable medical face mask with filter on all sides regardless of a main channel, and the country becomes a swamp for miles upon miles, covered by a vast sea of low willow bushes. On the big maps this deserted area is painted in a fluffy blue, growing fainter in color as it leaves the banks, and across it may be seen in help protect large straggling letters the word S uuml mpfe, meaning marshes. In high flood this great acreage of sand, shingle beds, and willow grown islands is almost topped by the water, but in normal seasons the bushes bend and rustle in the free winds, showing their silver leaves to the sunshine in an ever moving plain of bewildering beauty. These willows never attain to the dignity of trees they have no rigid trunks they remain humble bushes, with rounded tops and soft outline, swaying on slender stems that answer to the least pressure of the wind supple as grasses, and so continually shifting that they somehow give the impression that the entire plain is moving and alive. For the wind sends waves rising and falling over the whole surface, waves of leaves instead of waves of water, what is the difference between ffp1 and ffp2 green swells like the sea, too, until the branches turn and lift, and then silvery white as their under side turns to the sun. Happy to slip beyond the control of stern banks, the Danube here wanders about at will among the intricate network of channels intersecting the islands everywhere with broad avenues down which the waters pour with a shouting sound making whirlpools, eddies, and foaming rapids tearing at the sandy banks carrying away masses of shore and willow clumps and forming new islands innumerable which shift daily in size and shape and possess at best an impermanent life, since the flood time obliterates their very existence. Properly speaking, this fascinating part of the river s life begins soon after leaving Pressburg, and we, in our help protect Canadian canoe, with gipsy tent and frying pan on board, reached it on the crest of a rising flood about mid July. That very same morning, when the sky was reddening before sunrise, we had slipped swiftly through still sleeping Vienna, leaving it a couple of hours later a mere patch of smoke against the blue hills of the Wienerwald on the horizon we had breakfasted below Fischeramend under a grove of birch trees roaring in the wind and had then swept on the tea.o the machinery, but in vain. Neither he nor the kitten was to be found. It was when the kitten, in chase of her own tail, tumbled in sideways through the round house door, that Mrs. Lake remembered that Jan might possibly have gone out, and she ran out after him. The air was chill and fresh, but not bitterly cold. The moon rode high in the dark heavens, and a flock of small white clouds passed slowly before its face and spread over the sky. The shadows of the driving sails fell clearly in the moonlight, and flitted over the grass more quickly than the clouds went by the moon. Mrs. Lake was not susceptible to effects of scenery, and she was thinking of Jan. As she ran round the windmill, she struck her foot against what proved to be his body, and, stooping, saw that he was lying on his face. But when she snatched him up with a cry of terror, she found that he was not dead, nor even hurt, but only weeping pettishly. In the first revulsion of feeling from her help protect fright, she was rather disposed to shake her recovered treasure, as a relief to her own excitement. But Abel, whose first sight of Jan was as the light of the mill candle fell on his tear stained face, said tenderly, What be amiss, Janny Jan can t make un, sobbed his foster brother. What can t Janny make Tell Abel, then, said the nurse boy. Jan stuck his fists into his eyes, which were drying fast, and replied, Jan can t make the moon and the clouds, Abel dear And Abel s candle being at that moment help protect blown out by a gust of wind, he could see Jan s slate and pencil lying at some distance apart upon the short grass. On the dark ground of the slate he had made a round, white, full moon with his soft slate pencil, and had tried hard to draw each cloud as it passed. But the rapid changes had baffled him, and the pencil marks were gray compared with the whiteness face mask factory of the clouds and the brightness of the moon, and the slate, though dark, was a mockery of the deep, deep depths of the night sky. And in his despair he had flung the slate one way and the pencil another, and there they lay under the moonlight and the sandy kitten, who could see more clearly on this occasion than any one else, was dancing a fandango upon poor Jan s unfinished sketch. CHAPTER XII. THE WHITE HORSE. COMROGUES. MOERDYK. GEORGE CONFIDES IN THE CHEAP JACK WITH RESERVATION. When the Cheap Jack s horse came to the brow of the hill, it stopped, and with drooping neck stood still as before. The Cheap Jack was busy with George, and it was at no word from him that the poor beast paused. It knew at what point to wait, and it waited. There was little temptation to go on. The road down the hill had just been mended with flints some of these were the size of an average turnip, and the hill was steep. So the ol.