Mrs. Wilson Woodrow,
The New Missioner — Chapter 16
(1907)
“ Nitschkan, enjoying to the full her wild freedom, rising from her bed on the earth to inhale great "draughts of space," alive to the tips of her fingers, fooling with dangers, and embracing rough discomforts for the robust love of them, instinct with the gay, fresh sentiment of the road, tossing the light coin of her jovial greetings to the passers-by. ”
Mrs. Wilson Woodrow,
The New Missioner — Chapter 16
(1907)
“ Down low on the mountain the air was mild, there was a soft languor in the touch of the wind on one's cheek; the earth lay in a sort of dreaming brightness, and the hillsides were like vast, changing mosaics of colour, inwrought, overlaid, inlaid with the gold of the aspens, the crimson and flame of the maples, the green gloom of the pines; and from farther purple mountains rose the white peaks, sharply, coldly distinct against the deep, bending blue of the sky. There are certain temperaments so susceptible to colour that it acts upon them as an intoxicant, and Frances was one of these. ”
Mrs. Wilson Woodrow,
The New Missioner — Chapter 16
(1907)
“ Nitschkan, with something of the sensation of the Porter of Bagdad when he awoke to find himself in the palace of the Princess of China, now completely threw off the surly suspicion of the early evening, and allowed himself to expand in this grateful and comforting atmosphere of feminine consideration and sympathy. "My Lord! It does a man good to get his teeth in vittles like these," he said, when he had finished the last bite of pie and sat gazing with glistening eyes at the remaining half on the pie plate. "Aw, take the rest, Jack," urged Mrs. Thomas. "It'll do you good. ”
