Skip to content

- George Herbert

The harbingers are come. See, see their mark;

White is their colour, and behold my head.

But must they have my brain? must they dispark

Those sparkling notions, which therein were bred?

...

Read full poem

noun

A fight involving three or more individuals, teams, or factions; fought until one person, team, or faction is left standing.

Know more

Chapter 30 of 39

12 min read

No wonder we called it Endeavour Island. For two weeks we toiled at building a hut. Maud insisted on helping, and I could have wept over her bruised and bleeding hands. And still, I was proud of her because of it. There was something heroic about this gently-bred woman enduring our terrible hardship and with her pittance of strength bending to the tasks of a peasant woman. She gathered many of the stones which I built into the walls of the hut; also, she turned a deaf ear to my entreaties when I begged her to desist. She compromised, however, by taking

Chapter 30

1 / 19

1 of 19

← → keys or swipe to turn pages