"Auld Licht Idyls" by J. M. Barrie. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
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J. M. Barrie. Auld Licht Idyls
Auld Licht Idyls
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I. THE SCHOOL-HOUSE
CHAPTER II. THRUMS
CHAPTER III. THE AULD LICHT KIRK
CHAPTER IV. LADS AND LASSES
CHAPTER V. THE AULD LIGHTS IN ARMS
CHAPTER VI. THE OLD DOMINIE
CHAPTER VII. CREE QUEERY AND MYSY DROLLY
CHAPTER VIII. THE COURTING OF T'NOWHEAD'S BELL
CHAPTER IX. DAVIT LUNAN'S POLITICAL REMINISCENCES
CHAPTER X. A VERY OLD FAMILY
CHAPTER XI. LITTLE RATHIE'S “BURAL.”
CHAPTER XII. A LITERARY CLUB
Отрывок из книги
J. M. Barrie
Published by Good Press, 2019
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From the northwest corner of the square a narrow street sets off, jerking this way and that, as if uncertain what point to make for. Here lurks the post-office, which had once the reputation of being as crooked in its ways as the street itself.
A railway line runs into Thrums now. The sensational days of the post-office were when the letters were conveyed officially in a creaking old cart from Tilliedrum. The “pony” had seen better days than the cart, and always looked as if he were just on the point of succeeding in running away from it. Hooky Crewe was driver—so called because an iron hook was his substitute for a right arm. Robbie Proctor, the blacksmith, made the hook and fixed it in. Crewe suffered from rheumatism, and when he felt it coming on he stayed at home. Sometimes his cart came undone in a snow-drift; when Hooky, extricated from the fragments by some chance wayfarer, was deposited with his mail-bag (of which he always kept a grip by the hook) in a farmhouse. It was his boast that his letters always reached their destination eventually. They might be a long time about it, but “slow and sure” was his motto. Hooky emphasized his “slow and sure” by taking a snuff. He was a godsend to the postmistress, for to his failings or the infirmities of his gig were charged all delays.
