A White Heron - Sarah Orne Jewett - E-Book

A White Heron E-Book

Sarah Orne Jewett

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Beschreibung

First published by in 1886, "A White Heron" became the title story in her collection A White Heron and Other Stories. It follows a young city girl named Sylvia who comes to live with her grandmother in the country. She meets a young ornithologist seeking a rare bird that he recently saw in the area. Should Sylvia tell him she saw the bird? She discovers her passion for the countryside and its wildlife, and she comes to want to protect it

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Table of Contents

A WHITE HERON

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

A WHITE HERON

SARAH ORNE JEWETT

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

Copyright © 2021 by Wildside Press LLC.

A White Heron was originally published in A White Heron & Other Stories (1886).

Published by Wildside Press LLC.

wildsidepress.com | bcmystery.com

INTRODUCTION

A White Heron is a classic short story by Sarah Orne Jewett. First published by in 1886, it became the title story in her collection A White Heron and Other Stories. It follows a young city girl named Sylvia who comes to live with her grandmother in the country. She meets a young ornithologist seeking a rare bird that he recently saw in the area. Should Sylvia tell him she saw the bird? She discovers her passion for the countryside and its wildlife, and she comes to want to protect it

In an 1886 letter to Annie Fields, Jewett wrote: “Mr. Howells thinks that this age frowns upon the romantic, that it is no use to write romance any more; but dear me, how much of it there is left in every-day life after all. It must be the fault of the writers that such writing is dull, but what shall I do with my ‘White Heron’ now she is written? She isn’t a very good magazine story, but I love her, and I mean to keep her for the beginning of my next book and the reason for Mrs. Whitman’s pretty cover.”

—Karl Wurf

Rockville, Maryland

CHAPTER I

The woods were already filled with shadows one June evening, just before eight o’clock, though a bright sunset still glimmered faintly among the trunks of the trees. A little girl was driving home her cow, a plodding, dilatory, provoking creature in her behavior, but a valued companion for all that. They were going away from whatever light there was, and striking deep into the woods, but their feet were familiar with the path, and it was no matter whether their eyes could see it or not.

There was hardly a night the summer through when the old cow could be found waiting at the pasture bars; on the contrary, it was her greatest pleasure to hide herself away among the huckleberry bushes, and though she wore a loud bell she had made the discovery that if one stood perfectly still it would not ring. So Sylvia had to hunt for her until she found her, and call Co’! Co’! with never an answering Moo