Diana's Short Stories

“There's nothing in it for us down there, Emil. There are a few fine farms, but they are owned by the rich men in town, and couldn't be bought. Down there they have a little certainty, but up with us there is a big chance. We must have faith in the high land, Emil. I want to hold on harder than ever, and when you're a man you'll thank me.” 

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The blood surged to my head; I reeled dizzily against a lamp post and for a moment or two knew nothing. After a brief space my brain cleared. I shook myself and prepared to continue on my way. At that moment I happened to look round and saw a large white bulldog sitting on the pavement and regarding me fixedly.

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The sports were to begin immediately after dinner, but the cowboys had amused themselves during the forenoon by numerous tricks and games of their own, besides telling stories and discussing the remarkable youngster from the East who had ridden Firebrand.

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There was a fire in the fireplace in Betty’s bedroom, but it was very cold. In Great Great Grandma’s time, there were no such things as stoves and furnaces. Then Nurse drew the curtains of the bed to keep out the cold. Betty was almost asleep when she heard the Waits singing.

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Teddy's life was uneventful as far as any leading incident was concerned, he got into various little scrapes, especially on those occasions when his grandmother paid her periodic visits to the vicarage, for the old lady spoiled him dreadfully, undoing in a fortnight all that Mary had effected by months of careful teaching and training in the way of obedience and manners.

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He didn't get to it immediately. "I understand this library is fairly crammed with old records  data on the historical aspects of this area. Personal histories and such." He had a way of radiating his own cheerful mood. "Oh yes," I assured him. "It's an exceptional day, when we don't sweep a D.A.R. or two out of the aisles come closing time."

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"You will drive out or capture all Spanish troops in the western portion

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The grandmama took her little hand in hers and said in the most soothing voice: "Come, child, you must not cry. Did this remind you of something? Now stop, and I'll tell you the story to night. There are lovely stories in this book, that people can read and tell. Dry your tears now, darling, I must ask you something. Stand up now and look at me! Now we are merry again!"

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The Mayeta was now to be put to a severe test; she was to cross seas that could easily trip a boat of her size; but the wooden canoe was worthy of her builder, and flew like an affrighted bird over the foaming waves across the broad water, to the shelter of a wooded, half submerged island, out of which rose, on piles, a little lighthouse.

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“Robert,” the minister's wife said that night to the minister, “it's an awful quilt, but you ought to have seen her eyes! It's taken her three years to make it—maybe you wouldn't be proud yourself!” She waited a little anxiously for him to understand. The minister always understood, but sometimes he made her wait.

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