'in the North Countrie', 3 Hill-Side Sketches, by Austin Clare
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1876 edition. Excerpt: ... Standing there, on the More...
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Publisher: General Books LLC
Size: 7.44" wide x 9.69" long x 0.05" tall
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1876 edition. Excerpt: ... Standing there, on the old battle-ground, these thoughts come to me, and with them other thoughts, memories of a struggle fought out here at Otterburn, but never celebrated in song or legend, as was Douglas' fight. Sword or spear there was none in the hand of him who fought it, and yet it was as nobly done, the price given was as costly to him who gave it, and the object, as men count it, was ineffably less. Douglas, at least, won fame undying, but here there was no such return; it was altogether the much given for the little, the great sacrificed for the small. The deed and its doer are, so far as I know, alike obscure. The story has found no chronicler. Will you hear it? PART I. THE SPRING. CHAPTER I. UNDER THE STJNSET SKY. LONG village street with the sunset light upon it. This is the vision which rises first. Warm light is upon the slated roofs, deepening the greys to purple, and shining on the gardens below, on the rose-bushes, and the beds of southernwood, drawing out manifold fragrance. Light and shadow are everywhere, harmonising through every gradation of colour. Cloudcrimson dyes the waters of the burn which bounds the village to the east; rich brown darkness lies below the arch of the bridge. Amber light is about the church, the last building to the west, and long black shadows are lying quietly before every grave-stone, west and east, quiet as the dust which lies below, waiting for the Sunrise of the Kesurrection morn. Leaning on the low stone wall, where the green and golden moss makes a soft cushion for their elbows, are two boys, country lads, in coarse home-spun and coarser fustian, with satchels strapped across their shoulders. The younger is just the boy one may meet any day in that part of the country, strong, ..