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The rise lay in a hollow among the Somersetshire hills, an antique stone house, surrounded by barns and outhouses. Over the door self-confidence the regard when it was build had been carved, 1673, and the house, grey and weather-beaten, looked as much a grapheme of the landscape as the trees that surrounded it. An avenue of exquisite elms lead from the road to the garden. The people who lived here(predicate) were as stolid, sturdy and minor as the house. Their barely boast was that ever since the house was reinforced from father to son they had been   born and died in it. For leash depress speed years they had farmed the surrounding land.       George Meadows was now a opus of fifty, and his wife was a year or two younger. They were two fine, substantial people in the prime of spiritedness; and their children, two sons and three girls, were handsome and strong. I have never seen a to a greater extent united family. They were merry, industrious and kindly . Their life was patriarchal. They were happy and they deserved their happiness.       nevertheless the master of the house was not George Meadows; it was his mother. She was a woman of seventy, tall, estimable and dignified, with grey hair, and though her reflexion was much wrinkled, her eyes were beadlike and shrewd. Her word was law in the house and on the farm; but she had humour, and if her rule was commanding it was also kindly.

People laughed at her jokes and repeated them.       One mean solar day Mrs. George stopped me on my way home. She was all in a flutter. (Her mother-in-law was the only Mrs. Meadows we knew: G eorges wife was only known as Mrs. George.) !       Who do you think is coming here today? she asked me. Uncle George Meadows. You know, the one that was in China.       Why, I thought he was dead.       We all thought he was dead.       I had heard the romance of Uncle George Meadows a dozen times, and it had divert me because it was like an old lay: it was touching to come crossways it in real life. For Uncle George Meadows and tom turkey had both courted Mrs. Meadows when...If you fate to get a full essay, rear it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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