File:The Argosy (1865) (14799733203).jpg

Identifier: argosythe45wood (find matches)
Title: The Argosy
Year: 1865 (1860s)
Authors: Wood, Henry, Mrs., 1814-1887 Wood, Charles W. (Charles William), b. 1850?
Subjects:
Publisher: London (etc.) R. Bentley (etc.)
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
inch or two added to it.Her form was upright, almost commanding ; her shoulders weresquare, her back was not bent with age. She would have served fora Mallorcan Joan of Arc ; would have looked well at the head of aregiment of soldiers, and have led them on to victory or death.There was power, determination, unflinching purpose in her everyline. Her clothes fluttered and flapped in the wind as she walked. After this description, you will wonder in what way she showed herage. In the extremely lined, withered, and wrinkled appearance ofthe face; the seams that crossed and criss-crossed each other uponher weather-beaten, time-worn countenance. It is a condition seldomseen except in those who all their days have lived hard lives andfared frugally. And these people in Mallorca exist chiefly uponcoarse bread, water and olives, a few beans, a little of the fruits ofthe earth. Meat is unknown to them ; tea, cofiee, and milk areequally luxuries to them. Imagine such privation. It needs a happy
Text Appearing After Image:
3o6 Letters from Majorca. disposition and a glorious climate to make life bearable under suchconditions. Fortunately the back is fitted to the burden, and theyare contented with their lot. The doctor was intensely amused at the old woman. She wasoriginal and rare, and excited ones interest. I have never seenher equal. It is said that everyone has his double or counterpart inthe world, but in this instance I doubt it. Over the wall she skipped as nimbly as a young fawn; neverpausing, never looking back to see if we were following. In truth itwas as much as we could do not to lose sight of her, as she plungedinto the grounds of Miramar, and rapidly skirted its mazy paths.The birds sang in the trees overhead ; canaries, with their brightyellow plumage and glancing wings, chirped, and hardly knewthemselves ; but of these she took no notice. On she plunged, andon we followed; and the doctor laughed till he cried : and I wonderedwhether the old woman was the embodiment of perpetual motion.

Note About Images