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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"A Bicycle of Cathay"

I thought for a few
minutes, and then I said to myself, "It seems to me this would be a
good time to take one of those capsules," and I took one. I then
fancied that perhaps I ought to take two, but I contented myself with
one.


CHAPTER VI
THE HOLLY SPRIG INN

In the middle of the day I stopped at Vernon, and the afternoon was
well advanced when I came in sight of a little way-side house with a
broad unfenced green in front of it, and a swinging sign which told
the traveller that this was the "Holly Sprig Inn."
I dismounted on the opposite side of the road and gazed upon the
smoothly shaven greensward in front of the little inn; upon the pretty
upper windows peeping out from their frames of leaves; upon the
queerly-shaped projections of the building; upon the low portico which
shaded the doorway; and upon the gentle stream of blue smoke which
rose from the great gray chimney.
Then I turned and looked over the surrounding country. There were
broad meadows slightly descending to a long line of trees, between
which I could see the glimmering of water.


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