A Week Away from Time

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. 1887 Excerpt: ... to. Paul built some houses down on the Back Bay, and they relapsed, or did whatever houses down there do; and he went to Venice afterwards, and found that those old architects knew all about it. He explained to me, I remember; he said the salt water kept the wood from rotting in Venice, and somehow it did n't in Boston. So I decided I 'd rather stay where I was, above Charles Street. After dinner Ralph begged Muriel to sing one song, and he should be better able to read his story; and Muriel sang: --WHITE DAYS. Yesterday, not a song in the air, Not a hope in the sky, No bird on the wing--A sealed and death-still earth, relentless, bare: To-day all the land doth sing! Yesterday, like a barrier, Forcing our lives apart, The ground lay like a heavy grave: To-day the snowdrops start. Yesterday, an unreckoned space Stretched from my path to thine: To-day, thy hand, thy voice, thy face, --All dearest things are mine! Bell whispered to her sister, --She puts quite a new expression into her singing to-night. Which of them is it, my dear? But she saw an unusual expression in Margaret's own face, which was full of emotion, and stopped, a little frightened. Ralph was now commanded to begin. He cleared his throat, and looked very nervous. If you have never been in Venice, it is your loss, he began; and how great a loss you will never know till you go there. You mustn't yawn, Bell. My dear, it was the tone, said his sister, --so hollow. Yes, wasn't it? said Mrs. Chauncey, as if he were talking out of the plug in the bathtub. Well, I never told a story before, said Ralph, getting more and more awkward. Wyatt, why can't you take us on board your yacht? I think I could ...