Jan of the Windmill
Storm without and within? So the windmiller might have said, if he had been in the habit of putting his thoughts into an epigrammatic form, as a groan from his wife and a growl of thunder broke simultaneously upon his ear, whilst the rain fell scarcely faster than her tears. It was far from mending matters that both storms were equally unexpected. For eight full years the miller's wife had been the meekest of women. If there was a firm (and yet, as he flattered himself, a just) husband in all the dreary straggling district, the miller was that man. And he always did justice to his wife's good qualities,-at least to her good quality of submission,-and would, till lately, have upheld her before any one as a model of domestic obedience. From the day when he brought home his bride, tall, pretty, and perpetually smiling, to the tall old mill and the ugly old mother who never smiled at all, there had been but one will in the household. At any rate, after the old woman's death.
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Jan of the Windmill
Storm without and within? So the windmiller might have said, if he had been in the habit of putting his thoughts into an epigrammatic form, as a groan from his wife and a growl of thunder broke simultaneously upon his ear, whilst the rain fell scarcely faster than her tears. It was far from mending matters that both storms were equally unexpected. For eight full years the miller's wife had been the meekest of women. If there was a firm (and yet, as he flattered himself, a just) husband in all the dreary straggling district, the miller was that man. And he always did justice to his wife's good qualities,-at least to her good quality of submission,-and would, till lately, have upheld her before any one as a model of domestic obedience. From the day when he brought home his bride, tall, pretty, and perpetually smiling, to the tall old mill and the ugly old mother who never smiled at all, there had been but one will in the household. At any rate, after the old woman's death.
18.95 In Stock
Jan of the Windmill

Jan of the Windmill

by Juliana Horatia Ewing
Jan of the Windmill

Jan of the Windmill

by Juliana Horatia Ewing

Paperback

$18.95 
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Overview

Storm without and within? So the windmiller might have said, if he had been in the habit of putting his thoughts into an epigrammatic form, as a groan from his wife and a growl of thunder broke simultaneously upon his ear, whilst the rain fell scarcely faster than her tears. It was far from mending matters that both storms were equally unexpected. For eight full years the miller's wife had been the meekest of women. If there was a firm (and yet, as he flattered himself, a just) husband in all the dreary straggling district, the miller was that man. And he always did justice to his wife's good qualities,-at least to her good quality of submission,-and would, till lately, have upheld her before any one as a model of domestic obedience. From the day when he brought home his bride, tall, pretty, and perpetually smiling, to the tall old mill and the ugly old mother who never smiled at all, there had been but one will in the household. At any rate, after the old woman's death.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781421893495
Publisher: 1st World Publishing
Publication date: 10/01/2008
Pages: 324
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.73(d)

About the Author

Juliana Horatia Ewing (née Gatty) (3 August 1841 - 13 May 1885) was an English writer of children's stories. She displayed sympathetic insight into children's lives, admiration for things military, and strong religious faith.Known as Julie, she was the second of ten children of the Reverend Alfred Gatty, vicar of Ecclesfield in Yorkshire, and Margaret Gatty, who was herself a children's author. The children were educated mainly by her mother, but Julie was often the driving force behind their various activities: drama, botany etc. Later she was responsible for setting up a village library in Ecclesfield and helped out in the parish with her three sisters. Early stories of hers appeared in Charlotte Yonge's magazine Monthly Packet.
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