Excerpt from To My Mother: Illustrated The little boy walked down the gravel path that led from the house and flicked the branch of the quince tree near the front gate. He always did this as he came down the path in the mornings because, when he flicked the branch, great drops of dew would scatter onto the loose, dark soil. He swung through the white gate and put the chain over the bald knob of the post, then he looked back across the wide lawn to see if his mother was watching from the window. She was there ...
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Excerpt from To My Mother: Illustrated The little boy walked down the gravel path that led from the house and flicked the branch of the quince tree near the front gate. He always did this as he came down the path in the mornings because, when he flicked the branch, great drops of dew would scatter onto the loose, dark soil. He swung through the white gate and put the chain over the bald knob of the post, then he looked back across the wide lawn to see if his mother was watching from the window. She was there and he waved to her and then set off toward the school. He loved the cold mornings when the river valley was filled with mist and the frost lay on the surface of things and everything was white with it. 'he loved the biting air in his lungs and the smell of the moist grass and the way he had to walk sprucely and skip sometimes to keep from feeling the cold. And when he would reach the corner and look down the steep hill, the valley would be filled with white mist. There was always a shivery thrill when he came to the bridge and found that it led into the white mist and that he could not see the other side. He would step onto the bridge with trepidation and imagine that it might lead to another world. He would walk across the bridge slowly and look ahead into the solid white wall. And then ghostly outlines would begin to show; first the wall of the old flour mill, then the tall chimney/stack. The mill was a red building, the tallest in the town, and each morning when he passed it on his way to school he thought it must be the tallest build ing in the world. It had five storeys and that was many more than any other building he had heard about. It was just here that he overtook another boy. He was washed clean and pink and his clothes were clean, but he was poorly dressed and barefoot. His name was Jack Scarth, but all the school kids called him Jackie Scat. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at ... This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
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Choose your shipping method in Checkout. Costs may vary based on destination.
Seller's Description:
PLEASE NOTE, WE DO NOT SHIP TO DENMARK. New Book. Shipped from UK in 4 to 14 days. Established seller since 2000. Please note we cannot offer an expedited shipping service from the UK.