You wouldn't like your chany to go for an old song and be broke to pieces, though yours has got no colour in it, Jane,—it's all white and fluted, and didn't cost so much as mine.
Mr and Mrs Glegg at Home In order to see Mr and Mrs Glegg at home, we must enter the town of St Ogg's,—that venerable town with the red fluted roofs and the broad warehouse gables, where the black ships unlade themselves of their burthens from the far north, and carry away, in exchange, the precious inland products, the well-crushed cheese and the soft fleeces which my refined readers have doubtless become acquainted with through the medium of the best classic pastorals.
On this mighty tide the black ships—laden with the fresh-scented fir-planks, with rounded sacks of oil-bearing seed, or with the dark glitter of coal—are borne along to the town of St Ogg's, which shows its aged, fluted red roofs and the broad gables of its wharves between the low wooded hill and the river-brink, tingeing the water with a soft purple hue under the transient glance of this February sun.
The gently curled petals of hyacinths, the daffodils' fluted cups, skillfully fashioned crocuses and violets - work one would expect from a child much older.
THE little dwelling in which we lived was of clay, but the door-posts were columns of fluted marble, found near the spot on which it stood.
