books



previous page: Windsor Castle | by William Harrison Ainsworth
  
page up: Novels
  
next page: Robbery Under Arms; A Story Of Life And Adventure In The Bush And In The Australian Goldfields | by Rolf Boldrewood

A Window In Thrums | by J. M. Barrie



When the English publishers read "A Window in Thrums" in manuscript they thought it unbearably sad and begged me to alter the end. They warned me that the public do not like sad books. Well, the older I grow and the sadder the things I see, the more do I wish my books to be bright and hopeful, but an author may not always interfere with his story, and if I had altered the end of "A Window in Thrums" I think I should never have had any more respect for myself. It is a sadder book to me than it can ever be to anyone else. I see Jess at her window looking for the son who never came back as no other can see her, and I knew that unless I brought him back in time the book would be a pain to me all my days, but the thing had to be done

TitleA Window In Thrums
AuthorJ. M. Barrie
PublisherCharles Scribner's Sons
Year1918
Copyright1896, Charles Scribner's Sons
AmazonA Window in Thrums

Photograph of J. M. Barrie

Photograph Of J. M. Barrie

-Introduction
When the English publishers read A Window in Thrums in manuscript they thought it unbearably sad and begged me to alter the end. They warned me that the public do not like sad books. Well, the older...
-Chapter I. The House On The Brae
On the bump of green round which the brae twists, at the top of the brae, and within cry of T'nowhead Farm, still stands a one-storey house, whose whitewashed walls, streaked with the discoloration th...
-The Square Foot Of Glass Where Jess Sat In Her Chairand Looked Down The Brae
Ah, that brae! The history of tragic little Thrums is sunk into it like the stones it swallows in the winter. We have all found the brae long and steep in the spring of life. Do you remember how the c...
-Chapter II. On The Track Of The Minister
On the afternoon of the Saturday that carted me and my two boxes to Thrums, I was ben in the room playing Hendry at the dambrod. I had one of the room chairs, but Leeby brought a chair from the kitche...
-Chapter III. Preparing To Receive Company
Leeby was at the fire brandering a quarter of steak on the tongs, when the house was flung into consternation by Hendry's casual remark that he had seen Tibbie Mealmaker in the town with her man. Th...
-Chapter IV. Waiting For The Doctor
Jess had gone early to rest, and the door of her bed in the kitchen was pulled to. From her window I saw Hendry buying dulse. Now and again the dulseman wheeled his slimy boxes to the top of the brae...
-Chapter V. A Humorist On His Calling
After the eight o'clock bell had rung, Hendry occasionally crossed over to the farm of T'nowhead and sat on the pig-sty. If no one joined him he scratched the pig, and returned home gradually. Here wh...
-Chapter VI. Dead This Twenty Years
In the lustiness of youth there are many who cannot feel that they, too, will die. The first fear stops the heart. Even then they would keep death at arm's length by making believe to disown him. Love...
-Dead This Twenty Years. Continued
Jess's staff probably had a history before it became hers, for, as known to me, it was always old and black. If we studied them sufficiently we might discover that staves age perceptibly just as the h...
-Chapter VII. The Statement Of Tibbie Birse
On a Thursday Pete Lownie was buried, and when Hendry returned from the funeral Jess asked if Davit Lunan had been there. Na, said Hendry, who was shut up in the closet-bed, taking off his blacks, ...
-Chapter VIII. A Cloak With Beads
On weekdays the women who passed the window were meagrely dressed; mothers in draggled winsey gowns, carrying infants that were armfuls of grandeur. The Sabbath clothed every one in her best, and then...
-A Cloak With Beads. Continued
I sometimes repeated these panegyrics to Jess. She merely smiled, and said that the men haver most terrible when they are not at their work. Hendry tried Jess sorely over the cloaks, and a time came ...
-Chapter IX. The Power Of Beauty
One evening there was such a gathering at the pig-sty that Hendry and I could not get a board to lay our backs against. Circumstances had pushed Pete Elshioner into the place of honour that belonged b...
-Chapter X. A Magnum Opus
Two Bibles, a volume of sermons by the learned Dr. Isaac Barrow, a few numbers of theCheap Magazine, that had strayed from Dunfermline, and a Pilgrim's Progress, were the works that lay conspicuous ...
-Chapter XI. The Ghost Cradle
Our dinner-hour was twelve o'clock, and Hendry, for a not incomprehensible reason, called this meal his brose. Frequently, however, while I was there to share the expense, broth was put on the table, ...
-Chapter XII. The Tragedy Of A Wife
Were Jess still alive to tell the life-story of Sam'l Fletcher and his wife, you could not hear it and sit still. The ghost cradle is but a page from the black history of a woman who married, to be bl...
-Chapter XIII. Making The Best Of It
Hendry had a way of resuming a conversation where he had left off the night before. He would revolve a topic in his mind, too, and then begin aloud, He's a queer ane, or, Say ye so? which was at t...
-Chapter XIV. Visitors At The Manse
On bringing home his bride, the minister showed her to us, and we thought she would do when she realized that she was not the minister. She was a grand lady from Edinburgh, though very frank, and we s...
-Chapter XV. How Gavin Birse Put It To Mag Lownie
In a wet day the rain gathered in blobs on the road that passed our garden. Then it crawled into the cart-tracks until the road was streaked with water. Lastly, the water gathered in heavy yellow pool...
-Chapter XVI. The Son From London
In the spring of the year there used to come to Thrums a painter from nature whom Hendry spoke of as the drawer. He lodged with Jess in my attic, and when the weavers met him they said, Weel, drawer,...
-The Son From London. Continued
Ony rozetty roots? and him Jamie imitated. Juist think, Jess said, as she recalled the incident, what a startle we got. As we think, Pete kicks open the door and cries oot, 'Ony rozetty roots?' ...
-Chapter XVII. A Home For Geniuses
From hints he had let drop at odd times I knew that Tammas Haggart had a scheme for geniuses, but not until the evening after Jamie's arrival did I get it out of him. Hendry was with Jamie at the fish...
-Chapter XVIII. Leeby And Jamie
By the bank of the Quharity on a summer day I have seen a barefooted girl gaze at the running water until tears filled her eyes. That was the birth of romance. Whether this love be but a beautiful dre...
-Chapter XIX. A Tale Of A Glove
So long as Jamie was not the lad, Jess twinkled gleefully over tales of sweethearting. There was little Kitty Lamby who used to skip in of an evening, and, squatting on a stool near the window, unwind...
-Chapter XX. The Last Night
Juist another sax nichts, Jamie, Jess would say, sadly. Juist fower nichts noo, an' you'll be awa. Even as she spoke seemed to come the last night. The last night! Reserve slipped unheeded to the...
-Chapter XXI. Jess Left Alone
There may be a few who care to know how the lives of Jess and Hendry ended. Leeby died in the back-end of the year I have been speaking of, and as I was snowed up in the school-house at the time, I he...
-Chapter XXII. Jamie's Home-Coming
On a summer day, when the sun was in the weavers' workshops, and bairns hopped solemnly at the game of palaulays, or gaily shook their bottles of sugarelly water into a froth, Jamie came back. The fir...









TOP
previous page: Windsor Castle | by William Harrison Ainsworth
  
page up: Novels
  
next page: Robbery Under Arms; A Story Of Life And Adventure In The Bush And In The Australian Goldfields | by Rolf Boldrewood