"Will you come in, too, Rania? I need not ask Marguerite, lest she
might miss a chance of seeing 'Farmer Phil' and lose effervescence
of the hayseed. Do you know he is always associated, in my mind,
with homespun and hayseed."
Evelyn Verne laughed at the cleverness of her remark, and adjusting
her mantle entered a publisher's establishment, followed by the said
Rania Lister.
"Homespun and hayseed," muttered a muffled figure as he stood in the
recess of a doorway, from which situation he could see each occupant
of the sleigh and hear every syllable that was uttered.
"Homespun and hayseed! ah! my proud beauty, the effervescence of
hayseed is less noxious than the stench odors inhaled from
dissipation and vice, notwithstanding the fact that they are
perfumed over with all the garish compliments and conventional
gallantries that society demands."
Phillip Lawson had a highly-wrought imaginative temperament. He had
not heard more than those few words, but his mind was quick to take
in the whole situation. He could hear the lengthy speeches of
ridicule and sarcasm aimed at him from every possible standpoint,
and he felt the more determined to live down the scathing thoughts.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42