Wych Hazel

by Anna Bartlett Warner

Wych Hazel by Anna Bartlett Warner CHAPTER I. MR. FALKIRK. "We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowingThat skies are clear and grass is growing." When one has in charge a treasure which one values greatly, and which, if once made known one is pretty sure to lose, I suppose the impulse of most men would be towards a hiding- place. So, at any rate, felt one of the men in this history. Schools had done their secluding work for a time; tutors and governors had come and gone under an almost Carthusian vow of silence, except as to their lessons; and now with seventeen years of inexperience on his hands, Mr. Falkirk's sensations were those of the man out West, who wanted to move off whenever another man came within twenty miles of him. Thus, in the forlorn hope of a retreat which yet he knew must prove useless, Mr. Falkirk let the first March winds blow him out of town; and at this present time was snugly hid away in a remote village which nobody ever heard of, and where nobody ever came. So far so good: Mr. Falkirk rested and took breath. Nevertheless the spring came, even there; and following close in her train, the irrepressible conflict. Whoever succeeded in running away from his duties-or his difficulties? There was a flutter of young life within doors as without, and Mr. Falkirk knew it: there were a hundred rills of music, a thousand nameless flowers to which he could not close his senses. There was a soft, indefinable stir and sweetness, that told of the breaking of Winter bonds and the coming of Summer glories; and he could not stay the progress of things in the one case more than in the other. We are delighted to publish this classic book as part of our extensive Classic Library collection. Many of the books in our collection have been out of print for decades, and therefore have not been accessible to the general public. The aim of our publishing program is to facilitate rapid access to this vast reservoir of literature, and our view is that this is a significant literary work, which deserves to be brought back into print after many decades. The contents of the vast majority of titles in the Classic Library have been scanned from the original works. To ensure a high quality product, each title has been meticulously hand curated by our staff. Our philosophy has been guided by a desire to provide the reader with a book that is as close as possible to ownership of the original work. We hope that you will enjoy this wonderful classic work, and that for you it becomes an enriching experience.

212 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1876

About the author

Anna Bartlett Warner (August 31, 1827 – January 22, 1915) was an American writer, the author of several books, and of poems set to music as hymns and religious songs for children. She was born on Long Island and died in Highland Falls, New York.

The best known of the hymns is almost certainly "Jesus Loves Me, This I Know"; however some stanzas of this appear in modern hymnals rewritten by David Rutherford McGuire.

She wrote some books jointly with her sister Susan Warner (Elizabeth Wetherell) and also wrote under the pseudonym Amy Lothrop.

Reviews

[Ron · Rating 4 out of 5]

My hard back edition of this for me compelling read is dedicated "With love" Christmas 1899 ..

"We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing That skies are clear and grass is growing."

I all to often read the end of a book early in the hope that the character I like has survived, I have not done so with this book as I get more angry on behalf of little Wych the further we go, I really hope she is brave enough to tell the "control freak" where to go although I believe sadly she isn't..

'You seem to have so many guardians,' the lady went on,--'and guardians are selfish, my dear; horribly selfish. For that, I think all men are, whether guardians or not.'

And those guardians always think they know what is best for the young lady and she suffers very bravely - - "My dear, I think you no more unwomanly then I think a rose unlovely; but a rose has thorns, which sometimes pricks the hands that would train it out of harms way"........

......"A roses thorns are for protection, sir!"
And away she went, out of the room and up the stairs;

Then there is Kitty Fisher (I kind of see her as Barbara Stanwyck some how) -- "Kitty Fisher was not exactly jealous of all this--or had too much sense to shew it; but deep in her heart she did wish she could dismount Wych Hazel from her pedestal, that comparisons might be made on level ground"..

'That girl provokes me to death with her high dresses!' said Kitty Fisher. 'Such ridiculous nonsense!'

When there was fun to be had in the mood of the time --and at last down came the four-in-hands, with flashing lamps, and harness that glittered all over in the moonlight, and the fine in-time harmony of the horses' hoof- beats. There was singing too, from some of the turn-outs,--
-- as the first superb four-in-hand came up; the horses shining almost like their own harness, the drag in the newest style of finish, and with every seat full. A young officer in undress uniform was on the box, and by his side sat Wych Hazel... there is "someone" there to spoil it ..

"and she suffers bravely -- "A great new sorrow is a many-cornered thing; having its sharp points that sting, and its jagged points that wound; with others so dull and heavy and immoveable that one is ready to wish they could pierce through and make an end".

Well it was not the read i thought it was going to be having read ..

BEGINNING A FAIRY TALE.

'Mr. Falkirk, I _must_ go and seek my fortune!'

Wych Hazel made this little remark, sitting on a low seat by the fire, her arms crossed over her lap.

'Wherefore?' said her guardian.

'Because I want to, sir. I have no other than a woman's reason.'

But well worth the read.