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So long estranged from whatwas lovely as Clifford had been, she rejoiced—rejoiced, though with apresent sigh, and a secret purpose to shed tears in her own chamber that he hadbrighter objects now before his eyes than her aged and uncomely features. Theynever possessed a charm; and if they had, the canker of her grief for him wouldlong since have destroyed it. The old gentlewoman stole behind Phœbe, and peeped from the passageway intothe shop, to note how she would manage her undertaking. A very ancient woman, in a white short gown and a green petticoat,with a string of gold beads about her neck, and what looked like a nightcap onher head, had brought a quantity of yarn to barter for the commodities of theshop. She was probably the very last person in town who still kept thetime-honored spinning-wheel in constant revolution. It was worth while to hearthe croaking and hollow tones of the old lady, and the pleasant voice ofPhœbe, mingling in one twisted thread of talk; and still better to contrasttheir figures,—so light and bloomy,—so decrepit anddusky,—with only the counter betwixt them, in one sense, but more thanthreescore years, in another.
injured in crash that left vehicle nearly split in half in Sylmar
The approaching guest, whoever it might be, appeared to pause atthe head of the staircase; he paused twice or thrice in the descent; he pausedagain at the foot. Each time, the delay seemed to be without purpose, butrather from a forgetfulness of the purpose which had set him in motion, or asif the person’s feet came involuntarily to a stand-still because themotive-power was too feeble to sustain his progress. He took hold of the knob of the door;then loosened his grasp without opening it. Hepzibah, her hands convulsivelyclasped, stood gazing at the entrance. Theenclosure had formerly been very extensive, but was now contracted within smallcompass, and hemmed about, partly by high wooden fences, and partly by theoutbuildings of houses that stood on another street.
Publication history and response
It must have beenthe devil himself that made Maule so subtile in his preception. Now, what was unquestionably important, a portion of these popular rumors couldbe traced, though rather doubtfully and indistinctly, to chance words andobscure hints of the executed wizard’s son, and the father of thispresent Matthew Maule. And here Mr. Pyncheon could bring an item of his ownpersonal evidence into play.
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The streethaving been widened about forty years ago, the front gable was now precisely ona line with it. On either side extended a ruinous wooden fence of openlattice-work, through which could be seen a grassy yard, and, especially in theangles of the building, an enormous fertility of burdocks, with leaves, it ishardly an exaggeration to say, two or three feet long. Behind the house thereappeared to be a garden, which undoubtedly had once been extensive, but was nowinfringed upon by other enclosures, or shut in by habitations and outbuildingsthat stood on another street. The tradition was, that a certain Alice Pyncheon had flung up theseeds, in sport, and that the dust of the street and the decay of the roofgradually formed a kind of soil for them, out of which they grew, when Alicehad long been in her grave.
A Day Behind the Counter
Surprising facts await visitors to famous home which inspired "The House of the Seven Gables" - Indiana Gazette
Surprising facts await visitors to famous home which inspired "The House of the Seven Gables".
Posted: Sat, 30 Sep 2023 07:00:00 GMT [source]
At all events, Hepzibah hadfully satisfied herself of the impossibility of ever becoming wonted to thispeevishly obstreperous little bell. Ring as often as it might, the sound alwayssmote upon her nervous system rudely and suddenly. And especially now, while,with her crested teaspoons and antique china, she was flattering herself withideas of gentility, she felt an unspeakable disinclination to confront acustomer. Hepzibah brought out some old silver spoons with the family crest upon them,and a china tea-set painted over with grotesque figures of man, bird, andbeast, in as grotesque a landscape. These pictured people were odd humorists,in a world of their own,—a world of vivid brilliancy, so far as colorwent, and still unfaded, although the teapot and small cups were as ancient asthe custom itself of tea-drinking. These were some of the fantasies which she had long dreamed about; and, aidedby these, Uncle Venner’s casual attempt at encouragement kindled astrange festal glory in the poor, bare, melancholy chambers of her brain, as ifthat inner world were suddenly lighted up with gas.
Roots Picnic: Hip-Hop is the Love of My Life
He had a singular propensity, for example, to hang over Maule’swell, and look at the constantly shifting phantasmagoria of figures produced bythe agitation of the water over the mosaic-work of colored pebbles at thebottom. He said that faces looked upward to him there,—beautiful faces,arrayed in bewitching smiles,—each momentary face so fair and rosy, andevery smile so sunny, that he felt wronged at its departure, until the sameflitting witchcraft made a new one. Phœbe, when she hung over the fountain by Clifford’s side,could see nothing of all this,—neither the beauty nor theugliness,—but only the colored pebbles, looking as if the gush of thewaters shook and disarranged them. And the dark face, that so troubledClifford, was no more than the shadow thrown from a branch of one of thedamson-trees, and breaking the inner light of Maule’s well. The truthwas, however, that his fancy—reviving faster than his will and judgment,and always stronger than they—created shapes of loveliness that weresymbolic of his native character, and now and then a stern and dreadful shapethat typified his fate. Within a few days after the appearance of this remarkable inmate, the routineof life had established itself with a good deal of uniformity in the old houseof our narrative.
One man was sentenced to nearly two years behind bars and the other to almost three years. "I just want to thank the Los Angeles Police Department again for responding to the incident at the Getty House yesterday," Bass said Monday. "Investigations are ongoing, so I won't have any further comment at this moment. But again, I want to thank the Los Angeles Police Department for their work." Bass, speaking to reporters during a budget briefing Monday morning, again thanked officers for their quick response.
Then—as if the only barrier betwixt herself andthe world had been thrown down, and a flood of evil consequences would cometumbling through the gap—she fled into the inner parlor, threw herselfinto the ancestral elbow-chair, and wept. It still lacked half an hour of sunrise, when Miss Hepzibah Pyncheon—wewill not say awoke, it being doubtful whether the poor lady had so much asclosed her eyes during the brief night of midsummer—but, at all events,arose from her solitary pillow, and began what it would be mockery to term theadornment of her person. Far from us be the indecorum of assisting, even inimagination, at a maiden lady’s toilet!
The Pyncheon of To-day
So long as any of the race were to be found, they had been marked out fromother men—not strikingly, nor as with a sharp line, but with an effectthat was felt rather than spoken of—by an hereditary character ofreserve. Their companions, or those who endeavored to become such, grewconscious of a circle round about the Maules, within the sanctity or the spellof which, in spite of an exterior of sufficient frankness and good-fellowship,it was impossible for any man to step. It was this indefinable peculiarity,perhaps, that, by insulating them from human aid, kept them always sounfortunate in life. It certainly operated to prolong in their case, and toconfirm to them as their only inheritance, those feelings of repugnance andsuperstitious terror with which the people of the town, even after awakeningfrom their frenzy, continued to regard the memory of the reputed witches. Themantle, or rather the ragged cloak, of old Matthew Maule had fallen upon hischildren.
Somebody, at all events, was passing from the farthest interior of the omnibustowards its entrance. A gentleman alighted; but it was only to offer his handto a young girl whose slender figure, nowise needing such assistance, nowlightly descended the steps, and made an airy little jump from the final one tothe sidewalk. She rewarded her cavalier with a smile, the cheery glow of whichwas seen reflected on his own face as he reentered the vehicle.
5 New Salem House of the Seven Gables Trustees Named - Salem, MA Patch
5 New Salem House of the Seven Gables Trustees Named.
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She made a repelling gesturewith her hand, and stood a perfect picture of prohibition, at full length, inthe dark frame of the doorway. But we must betray Hepzibah’s secret, andconfess that the native timorousness of her character even now developed itselfin a quick tremor, which, to her own perception, set each of her joints atvariance with its fellows. Phœbe, on entering the shop, beheld there the already familiar face of thelittle devourer—if we can reckon his mighty deeds aright—of JimCrow, the elephant, the camel, the dromedaries, and the locomotive. The great fish, reversing his experience withthe prophet of Nineveh, immediately began his progress down the same redpathway of fate whither so varied a caravan had preceded him.
The film's musical score was nominated for the Oscar for Best Original Score. The plot of the film differs dramatically from the plot of the novel on which it is based. The impression of the whole scene was that of a spot where no human foot hadleft its print for many preceding days,—probably not since Phœbe’sdeparture,—for she saw a side-comb of her own under the table of thearbor, where it must have fallen on the last afternoon when she and Cliffordsat there. Mrs. Gubbins took her departure, still brimming over with hot wrath against theabsent Hepzibah.

Throughout this preparation there had been a constant tremor inHepzibah’s frame; an agitation so powerful that Phœbe could see thequivering of her gaunt shadow, as thrown by the firelight on the kitchen wall,or by the sunshine on the parlor floor. Its manifestations were so various, andagreed so little with one another, that the girl knew not what to make of it.Sometimes it seemed an ecstasy of delight and happiness. At such moments,Hepzibah would fling out her arms, and infold Phœbe in them, and kiss hercheek as tenderly as ever her mother had; she appeared to do so by aninevitable impulse, and as if her bosom were oppressed with tenderness, ofwhich she must needs pour out a little, in order to gain breathing-room.
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