Later on Felicity told me she had worked the bookmark for him because his father used to drink before he ran away.
"I thought Peter ought to be warned in time," she said.
Even Pat had a ribbon of blue, which he clawed off and lost half an hour after it was tied on him.

Pat did not care for vain adornments of the body.
We had a glorious Christmas dinner, fit for the halls of Lucullus, and ate far more than was good for us, none daring to make us afraid on that one day of the year.

And in the evening--oh, rapture and delight!--we went to Kitty Marr's party.
It was a fine December evening; the sharp air of morning had mellowed until it was as mild as autumn.

There had been no snow, and the long fields, sloping down from the homestead, were brown and mellow.

A weird, dreamy stillness had fallen on the purple earth, the dark fir woods, the valley rims, the sere meadows.