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Open Daily: 10am - 10pm | Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm
3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
612-822-4611
Nell Beverly, Farmer; A Story of Farm Life

Nell Beverly, Farmer; A Story of Farm Life

Paperback

Currently unavailable to order

ISBN10: 1150778369
ISBN13: 9781150778360
Publisher: General Books
Pages: 62
Weight: 0.28
Height: 0.13 Width: 7.44 Depth: 9.69
Language: English
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated.1908 Excerpt: ... CHAPTER I. THE LITTLE RED BABY. The Thanksgiving recess of the Winthrop Normal School was at hand, and the girls of the A Division of the Juniors were exchanging merry farewells in the cloakroom when one of the teachers, coming to the door, asked for Miss Beverly. Professor Trowbridge wishes to see you a moment in the office, she said. Guess you are in for a lecture now, chorused a half dozen teasingly. Can't you remember doing some terrible thing, such as talking out loud in the library, or dropping the dictionary, or--or-- The girl hurried away laughingly. Most of the pupils were in great awe of the principal, awe mixed with fear, for his patience was lacking when his rules were deviated from in the slightest degree, but Nell Beverly had never shared that feeling. He looked up from his desk cordially: I thought I would tell you, Miss Beverly, that we hope nothing will prevent your returning, he said kindly. You have a great future ahead of you; a remarkable one, I may say. No pupil that we have ever had here has done as well as you. When you come back I think we will promote you a little--give you observation work, perhaps. You are destined to be a star pupil of the Winthrop Normal, and if you finish as well as you have promised, your position will be assured. How would you like to stay here as one of our teachers? The girl went out into the keen snowy air with her brain filled with the highest hopes. How pleased her mother would be; she could hardly wait until the slow local had crawled into the West Winthrop station, a dozen miles away, at seven that evening. Her brother Bob--a big boy of fifteen--two years her junior, was waiting for her in the snow, which by that time was assuming the bluster of a midwinter storm. Hurry up! he called brusq...