On the 1st of May, 1774, the anchor-ice, which for so many months had silver-plated the river's bed with frosted crusts, was ripped off and dashed into a million gushing flakes by the amber outrush of the springtide flood. On that day I had laid my plans for fishing the warm shallows where the small fry, swarming in early spring, attract the great lean fish which have lain benumbed all winter under their crystal roof of ice. So certain was I of a holiday undisturbed by school-room tasks that I whistled up boldly as I sat on my cot bed, sorting hooks according to their sizes, and smoothing out my feather-flies to make sure the moths had not loosened wing or body. It was, therefore, with misgiving that I heard Peter and Esk go into the school-room, stamping their feet to make what noise they were able, and dragging their horn-books along the balustrade. Now we had no tasks set us for three weeks, for our schoolmaster, Mr. Yost, journeying with the post to visit his mother in Pennsylvania, had been shot and scalped at Eastertide near Fort Pitt—probably by some drunken Delaware. My guardian, Sir William Johnson, who, as all know, was Commissioner of Indian Affairs for the Crown, had but recently returned from the upper castle with his secretary, Captain Walter Butler; and, preoccupied with the lamentable murder of Mr. Yost, had found no time to concern himself with us or our affairs. However, having despatched a messenger with strings and belts to remonstrate with the sachems of the Lenni-Lenape—they being, as I have said, suspected of the murder—we discovered that Sir William had also written to Albany for another schoolmaster to replace Mr. Yost; and it gave me, for one, no pleasure to learn it, though it did please Silver Heels, who wearied me with her devotion to her books. So, hearing Esk and fat Peter on their way to the school-room, I took alarm, believing that our new schoolmaster had arrived; so seized my fish-rod and started to slip out of the house before any one might summon me. However, I was seen in the hallway by Captain Butler, Sir William's secretary, and ordered to find my books and report to him at the school-room. I, of course, paid no heed to Mr. Butler, but walked defiantly down-stairs, although he called me twice in his cold, menacing voice. And I should have continued triumphantly out of the door and across the fields to the river had not I met Silver Heels dancing through the lower hallway, her slate and pencil under her arm, and loudly sucking a cone of maple sugar.
Designed to be used as a self-guided tutorial, this book develops and improves knitting skills through quick-to-knit projects for baby cardigans.
The Cardigan
This book contains a lovely collection of vintage knitting patterns for the making of summer cardigans for women.
A volume of cardigan patterns by the famed designer whose pieces have appeared in leading craft magazines features a variety of styles that demonstrate how to create such options as puffed sleeves, single-button closures and sailor collars.
Who doesn't love a good cardigan? Make your own with one of these crochet cardigan patterns and you can have one for every season and occasion!
Chris's wife finds him a scruffy cardigan at a yard sale. After initially rejecting it, he decides it will be warm, and it becomes a good friend -- until his wife throws it out.
If a butterfly is just a moth in a fancy cardigan, then perhaps we should always expect more than what we see.This is the story of Gary Grey Moth who desperately wants to be seen and Florence Butterfly who has had enough of being noticed.
Some of the designs in this book, such as the Cowichan-Inspired Swallows and Ivy Wrap Cardigan, the Men's Fair Isle pullover, and the Eriskay Gansey, are very traditional garments, allowing you to try the same stitches and techniques used ...
From textured pullover to cabled raglan to wrap-front cardigan, the 16 designs in this book will take you anywhere you want to go.
Who doesn't love a good cardigan?