thea sloop was loitering in the gloom like some gigantic monster ready to be done to turn and fly was now bustle and hubbub in the air the bark of the unfortunate major andre was taken and which may even be heard in a grove of tall walnuttrees that shades one side of the stories however turned upon the funds of rustic waggery in his day if we may judge from the hillside the boding cry of the sager folks who with old v an tassel sat smoking at one end and a door left ajar gave him a peep into the brook and was obliged to get on with my story (C) 2026 Shane Cooper follow links in the poem, or start new path... |