Theodore Goodridge Roberts

Theodore Goodridge Roberts

Summary

Portrait of Theodore Goodridge Roberts Theodore Goodridge Roberts,  The Red Pirogue — Chapter 1 (1922)

“ For a few seconds the two gazed in silence.
“Who are you?” asked the occupant of the red pirogue.
“I'm Ben O'Dell,” replied the youth in the water, smiling encouragingly and brushing aside a bang of wet hair. “I live on the point when I'm not away downriver at school. I was surprised when I first saw you—so surprised that I upset and had to swim.”
“Is that O'Dell's Point?” asked the other.
“Yes. You can't see the house for those big willows on the bank.”
“Are you Mrs. O'Dell's boy?”
“Yes, I'm her son. I'm not so small as I look with just my head out of water.
”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Theodore Goodridge Roberts Theodore Goodridge Roberts,  The Red Pirogue — Chapter 1 (1922)

“ Marion sat beside Jim McAllister, on his left. Jim, having taken his cue from his sister, racked his memory for nice things to say of Richard Sherwood. He sang Sherwood's prowess in field and stream. At last, spooning his preserves with his right hand, he let his left hand rest on his knee beneath the edge of the table.
“And brave!” he said. “You couldn't scare him! I never knew any man so brave as Dick Sherwood except only John O'Dell.”
Then a queer change of expression came over his face. Young Ben, who was watching his uncle from the other side of the table, noticed it instantly.
”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Theodore Goodridge Roberts Theodore Goodridge Roberts,  The Red Pirogue — Chapter 1 (1922)

“ McAllister's long, lean frame jerked with laughter.
“That suits me fine, Ben,” he exclaimed as soon as he could speak. “We'll go tend it now. I'd sooner be on the river this fine morning than hilling potatoes, anyhow; and maybe we'll find another grilse from French River.”
Uncle Jim was impressed by the red pirogue. He had seen bigger ones but not many of them. In the days of his unsettled and adventurous youth, when he was a “white-water boy,” chopping in the woods every winter and “stream-driving” logs every spring, he had once helped to shape and dig out a thirty-five-foot pirogue.
”
Source: Wikisource

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