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قراءة كتاب Jan Vedder's Wife
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The Project Gutenberg eBook, Jan Vedder's Wife, by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr
Title: Jan Vedder's Wife
Author: Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr
Release Date: April 26, 2010 [eBook #32144]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JAN VEDDER'S WIFE***
E-text prepared by Katherine Ward
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
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from page images generously made available by
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(http://www.archive.org/details/americana)
Note: | Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive/American Libraries. See http://www.archive.org/details/janvedderswife00barrrich |
JAN VEDDER’S WIFE
BY
AMELIA E. BARR
NEW YORK:
DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS.
Copyright, 1885
BY
DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
CONTENTS.
Chapter I.—Jan’s Wedding. | 1 |
Chapter II.—A Little Cloud in the Sky. | 17 |
Chapter III.—Jan’s Opportunity. | 36 |
Chapter IV.—The Desolated Home. | 54 |
Chapter V.—Shipwreck. | 74 |
Chapter VI.—Margaret’s Heart. | 94 |
Chapter VII.—The Man at Death’s Door. | 116 |
Chapter VIII.—Death and Change. | 140 |
Chapter IX.—Jan at His Post. | 167 |
Chapter X.—Sweet Home. | 193 |
Chapter XI.—Snorro Is Wanted. | 228 |
Chapter XII.—Snorro and Jan. | 252 |
Chapter XIII.—Little Jan’s Triumph. | 275 |
Chapter XIV.—Jan’s Return. | 297 |
Chapter XV.—Labor and Rest. | 317 |
“Eastward, afar, the coasts of men were seen
Dim, shadowy, and spectral; like a still
Broad land of spirits lay the vacant sea
Beneath the silent heavens—here and there,
Perchance, a vessel skimmed the watery waste,
Like a white-winged sea-bird, but it moved
Too pale and small beneath the vail of space.
There, too, went forth the sun
Like a white angel, going down to visit
The silent, ice-washed cloisters of the Pole.”
—Richter’s “Titan.”
More than fifty years ago this thing happened: Jan Vedder was betrothed to Margaret Fae. It was at the beginning of the Shetland summer, that short interval of inexpressible beauty, when the amber sunshine lingers low in the violet skies from week to week; and the throstle and the lark sing at midnight, 2 and the whole land has an air of enchantment, mystic, wonderful, and far off.
In the town of Lerwick all was still, though it was but nine o’clock; for the men were at the ling-fishing, and the narrow flagged street and small quays were quite deserted. Only at the public fountain there was a little crowd of women and girls, and they sat around its broad margin, with their water pitchers and their