2009, ISBN: 0217412920, Lieferbar binnen 4-6 Wochen

Internationaler Buchtitel. In englischer Sprache. Verlag: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 158 Seiten, L=152mm, B=229mm, H=9mm, Gew.=240gr, Kartoniert/Broschiert, Klappentext: Purchase of t… Mehr…

Internationaler Buchtitel. In englischer Sprache. Verlag: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 158 Seiten, L=152mm, B=229mm, H=9mm, Gew.=240gr, Kartoniert/Broschiert, Klappentext: Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER III. Beaueegaed was a busy, if not a very interesting, village. It was halfway between some considerable iron-mines and great smelting-works; so that it was to the mind of Widow Souchet, who kept the Bon Voyageur, where entertainment for man and beast might be obtained, most admirably situated. Unquestionably, when this lean, leathery, little hostess stood at her doorway by the perpendicularly-adjusted broom that served as scraper to the wooden-shoes of her rough customers, and looked to the right and left, Beauregard was a pleasant place to dwell in. She saw long rows of straggling cottages, with black sloughs of despond before every doorway; children with basket-hats (very like melons with the flesh removed) driving lean turkeys through the mire; old women, their heads closely bound in tawdry handkerchiefs, bending under their load of deadbrushwood gathered from the forest for the oven. The lank, trembling arms of extreme age axe still wandering over primitive spinning wheels; sheepskin-breasted hedgers; carters in their white nightcaps and blouses adjusting rope-harness noisily to those hurdles upon wheels that shamble along the roads of Prance with the driver asleep at the bottom of them; and troops of ragged urchins, lazy gossips, and stout Flemish horses, red with the dust of the ironstone, before blacksmith Edmond's door ! To the right and left were these lowly huts, here painted cerulean blue, there red-umbered, and glowing as Bacchus' cheek; in all not want nor comfort, not much more skill nor sense of civilised life, than the otter has. A cauldron of sorrel-soup upon the deal table twice daily, and greedy wooden spoons round about it, with a rocky lump of black bread at hand; on holidays a pound or so of fat bacon from the pig that last year grunted round abou...<

ISBN: 9780217412926

[ED: Softcover], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This… Mehr…

[ED: Softcover], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER III. Beaueegaed was a busy, if not a very interesting, village. It was halfway between some considerable iron-mines and great smelting-works so that it was to the mind of Widow Souchet, who kept the Bon Voyageur, where entertainment for man and beast might be obtained, most admirably situated. Unquestionably, when this lean, leathery, little hostess stood at her doorway by the perpendicularly-adjusted broom that served as scraper to the wooden-shoes of her rough customers, and looked to the right and left, Beauregard was a pleasant place to dwell in. She saw long rows of straggling cottages, with black sloughs of despond before every doorway children with basket-hats (very like melons with the flesh removed) driving lean turkeys through the mire old women, their heads closely bound in tawdry handkerchiefs, bending under their load of deadbrushwood gathered from the forest for the oven. The lank, trembling arms of extreme age axe still wandering over primitive spinning wheels sheepskin-breasted hedgers carters in their white nightcaps and blouses adjusting rope-harness noisily to those hurdles upon wheels that shamble along the roads of Prance with the driver asleep at the bottom of them and troops of ragged urchins, lazy gossips, and stout Flemish horses, red with the dust of the ironstone, before blacksmith Edmond's door ! To the right and left were these lowly huts, here painted cerulean blue, there red-umbered, and glowing as Bacchus' cheek in all not want nor comfort, not much more skill nor sense of civilised life, than the otter has. A cauldron of sorrel-soup upon the deal table twice daily, and greedy wooden spoons round about it, with a rocky lump of black bread at hand on holidays a pound or so of fat bacon from the pig that last year grunted round abou...Versandfertig in 6-10 Tagen, [SC: 0.00]<