| 285 | Author: | Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937 | Add | | Title: | "The Angel at the Grave." | | | Published: | 1995 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | THE House stood a few yards back from the elm-shaded village
street, in that semi-publicity sometimes cited as a democratic
protest against old-world standards of domestic exclusiveness.
This candid exposure to the public eye is more probably a result of
the gregariousness which, in the New England bosom, oddly coexists
with a shrinking from direct social contact; most of the inmates of
such houses preferring that furtive intercourse which is the result
of observations through shuttered windows and a categorical
acquaintance with the neighboring clothes-lines. The House,
however, faced its public with a difference. For sixty years it
had written itself with a capital letter, had self-consciously
squared itself in the eye of an admiring nation. The most
searching inroads of village intimacy hardly counted in a household
that opened on the universe; and a lady whose door-bell was at any
moment liable to be rung by visitors from London or Vienna was not
likely to flutter up-stairs when she observed a neighbor "stepping
over." | | Similar Items: | Find |
295 | Author: | Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937 | Add | | Title: | Only a Child. | | | Published: | 1995 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | "The Press of May 27 publishes an account of
the suicide in the House of Refuge at Philadelphia
of a boy who was only twelve years old. He was
locked up in solitary confinement. They found him
hanging by the neck dead and cold. Tired of wait-ing for the release that never came, he had at last
escaped—from that House of Refuge!"—THE
WORLD. | | Similar Items: | Find |
296 | Author: | Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937 | Add | | Title: | The Pelican | | | Published: | 1995 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | SHE was very pretty when I first knew her, with the sweet straight
nose and short upper lip of the cameo-brooch divinity, humanized by
a dimple that flowered in her cheek whenever anything was said
which possessed the outward attributes of humor without its
intrinsic quality. For the dear lady was providentially deficient
in humor: the least hint of the real thing clouded her lovely eye
like the hovering shadow of an algebraic problem. | | Similar Items: | Find |
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