Quiller-Couch Mabel
(Florence) Mabel Quiller-Couch (c. 1866, Cornwall – November 1924) was an English editor, compiler and children's writer. Mabel Quiller-Couch was the daughter of Thomas Quiller Couch of Bodmin and his wife Mary (née Ford) and younger sister of the critic Arthur Quiller-Couch. She was one of five children of whom Arthur was the eldest son. After a disappointment in love she lived with her younger sister Lilian, also a writer, in Hampstead. Of her 26 publications, one was jointly written and one jointly edited with her sister.[1] Lilian M. Quiller-Couch was the author of a number of novels and the compiler of an anthology of writings about the University of Oxford up to 1850.
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The Story of Jessie
Series:
Unknown
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Unknown
Raiting:
2.5/5
The Story of Jessie is about the problems and experiences encountered by a young girl who is sent to live with her grandparents, as her parents are struggling for money and cannot afford to keep her. It was first published in 1910 and was written by Mabel Quiller-Couch (1866-1924) who was a Cornish writer. She was the sister of Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, and her sister Lilian M. Quiller-Couch was an author as well. --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.
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Paul the Courageous
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Unknown
Year:
Unknown
Raiting:
4/5
Mabel Quiller-Couch (1866-1924) was a Cornish writer. She was the the sister of Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, and her sister Lilian M. Quiller-Couch was an author as well. She wrote Ancient and Holy Wells of Cornwall with her sister in 1894. Other works include Martha's Trial (1895), One Good Seed Sown (1896), The Recovery of Jane Vercoe.. (1896), Some Western Folk (1897), Paul the Courageous (1901), A Waif and a Welcome (1905), Zach and Derby (1906), The Carroll Girls (1906), A Pair of Red Dolls (1907), Troublesome Ursula (1907), Kitty Trenire (1909), Some Great Little People (1910), The Story of Jessie (1910), Children of Olden Days (1910), On Windycross Moor (1910), The Mean-Wells (1910), True Tales from History (1910), The Little Princess.. (1910), Better than Play (1911), A Book of Children's Verse (as editor) (1911) and Dick and Brownie (1912).
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The Making of Mona
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Unknown
Year:
Unknown
Raiting:
4.5/5
an excerpt from: CHAPTER I. The kettle sat on the hob, and Mona sat on the floor, both as idle as idle could be. "I will just wait till the kettle begins to sing," thought Mona; and became absorbed in her book again. After a while the kettle, at any rate, seemed to repent of its laziness, for it began to hum softly, and then to hum loudly, and then to sing, but Mona was completely lost in the story she was reading, and had no mind for repentance or anything else. She did not hear the kettle's song, nor even the rattling of its cover when it boiled, though it seemed to be trying in every way to attract her attention. It went on trying, too, until at last it had no power to try any longer, for the fire had died low, and the kettle grew so chilly it had not even the heart to 'hum,' but sat on the black, gloomy-looking stove, looking black and gloomy too, and, if kettles have any power to think, it was probably thinking that poor old granny Barnes' tea would be scarcely worth drinking when she came home presently, tired and hungry, from her walk to Milbrook, for Mona, even if she realised that the water had boiled, would never dream of emptying it away and filling the kettle afresh, as she should do. But Mona had no thought for kettles, or tea, or granny either, for her whole mind, her eyes, her ears, and all her senses were with the heroine of the fascinating story she was absorbed in; and who could remember fires and kettles and other commonplace things when one was driving through a lovely park in a beautiful pony carriage, drawn by cream-coloured ponies, and seated beside an exquisitely dressed little lady who had more money than she could count, and insisted on sharing all with her companion? Mona certainly could not. She never could manage to remember two things at the same time; so, as all her thoughts were absorbed by her golden-haired friend in the blue silk frock, granny in her old black merino and heavy boots was forgotten as completely as the fire, and it was not until someone came stumbling up the garden path and a tired voice said, "Well, dearie, I'm come at last, how have you got on since I've been gone?" that she remembered anything about either; and when she did she felt almost sorry that granny had come quite so soon, for if she had only been a few minutes later Mona might just have finished the chapter. "Oh, I'm so tired!" groaned granny, dropping wearily into her arm-chair. "I have been longing for a nice cup of tea for this hour and more." Then, as her eyes fell on the black grate, her voice changed to one of dismay. "Why, Mona!" she cried, "the fire's gone clean out! Oh, dear! oh, dear!" Granny's voice was full of disappointment. With anyone but Mona she would have been very cross indeed, but she was rarely cross with her. "I daresay it'll catch up again quickly with a few sticks," she added patiently. Mona, really ashamed of herself, ran out to the little wood-rick which stood always in the back-yard. "Stupid old fire," she muttered impatiently, "of course it must go out, just to spite me because I wanted to have a little read," and she jerked out the sticks with such force that a whole pile of faggots came tumbling down to the ground. She did not stay, though, to pick them up again, for she really was sorry for her carelessness, and wanted to try and catch up the fire as quickly as possible. She had fully meant to have a nice fire, and the tea laid, and the kettle on the point of boiling, and everything as nice as could be by the time her grandmother got back from the town. But one never got any credit for what one meant to do, thought Mona with a feeling of self-pity. -
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The Story of Jessie
Series:
Unknown
Year:
Unknown
Raiting:
2.5/5
The Story of Jessie is about the problems and experiences encountered by a young girl who is sent to live with her grandparents, as her parents are struggling for money and cannot afford to keep her. It was first published in 1910 and was written by Mabel Quiller-Couch (1866-1924) who was a Cornish writer. She was the sister of Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, and her sister Lilian M. Quiller-Couch was an author as well. --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.
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Paul the Courageous
Series:
Unknown
Year:
Unknown
Raiting:
4/5
Mabel Quiller-Couch (1866-1924) was a Cornish writer. She was the the sister of Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, and her sister Lilian M. Quiller-Couch was an author as well. She wrote Ancient and Holy Wells of Cornwall with her sister in 1894. Other works include Martha's Trial (1895), One Good Seed Sown (1896), The Recovery of Jane Vercoe.. (1896), Some Western Folk (1897), Paul the Courageous (1901), A Waif and a Welcome (1905), Zach and Derby (1906), The Carroll Girls (1906), A Pair of Red Dolls (1907), Troublesome Ursula (1907), Kitty Trenire (1909), Some Great Little People (1910), The Story of Jessie (1910), Children of Olden Days (1910), On Windycross Moor (1910), The Mean-Wells (1910), True Tales from History (1910), The Little Princess.. (1910), Better than Play (1911), A Book of Children's Verse (as editor) (1911) and Dick and Brownie (1912).
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The Making of Mona
Series:
Unknown
Year:
Unknown
Raiting:
4.5/5
an excerpt from: CHAPTER I. The kettle sat on the hob, and Mona sat on the floor, both as idle as idle could be. "I will just wait till the kettle begins to sing," thought Mona; and became absorbed in her book again. After a while the kettle, at any rate, seemed to repent of its laziness, for it began to hum softly, and then to hum loudly, and then to sing, but Mona was completely lost in the story she was reading, and had no mind for repentance or anything else. She did not hear the kettle's song, nor even the rattling of its cover when it boiled, though it seemed to be trying in every way to attract her attention. It went on trying, too, until at last it had no power to try any longer, for the fire had died low, and the kettle grew so chilly it had not even the heart to 'hum,' but sat on the black, gloomy-looking stove, looking black and gloomy too, and, if kettles have any power to think, it was probably thinking that poor old granny Barnes' tea would be scarcely worth drinking when she came home presently, tired and hungry, from her walk to Milbrook, for Mona, even if she realised that the water had boiled, would never dream of emptying it away and filling the kettle afresh, as she should do. But Mona had no thought for kettles, or tea, or granny either, for her whole mind, her eyes, her ears, and all her senses were with the heroine of the fascinating story she was absorbed in; and who could remember fires and kettles and other commonplace things when one was driving through a lovely park in a beautiful pony carriage, drawn by cream-coloured ponies, and seated beside an exquisitely dressed little lady who had more money than she could count, and insisted on sharing all with her companion? Mona certainly could not. She never could manage to remember two things at the same time; so, as all her thoughts were absorbed by her golden-haired friend in the blue silk frock, granny in her old black merino and heavy boots was forgotten as completely as the fire, and it was not until someone came stumbling up the garden path and a tired voice said, "Well, dearie, I'm come at last, how have you got on since I've been gone?" that she remembered anything about either; and when she did she felt almost sorry that granny had come quite so soon, for if she had only been a few minutes later Mona might just have finished the chapter. "Oh, I'm so tired!" groaned granny, dropping wearily into her arm-chair. "I have been longing for a nice cup of tea for this hour and more." Then, as her eyes fell on the black grate, her voice changed to one of dismay. "Why, Mona!" she cried, "the fire's gone clean out! Oh, dear! oh, dear!" Granny's voice was full of disappointment. With anyone but Mona she would have been very cross indeed, but she was rarely cross with her. "I daresay it'll catch up again quickly with a few sticks," she added patiently. Mona, really ashamed of herself, ran out to the little wood-rick which stood always in the back-yard. "Stupid old fire," she muttered impatiently, "of course it must go out, just to spite me because I wanted to have a little read," and she jerked out the sticks with such force that a whole pile of faggots came tumbling down to the ground. She did not stay, though, to pick them up again, for she really was sorry for her carelessness, and wanted to try and catch up the fire as quickly as possible. She had fully meant to have a nice fire, and the tea laid, and the kettle on the point of boiling, and everything as nice as could be by the time her grandmother got back from the town. But one never got any credit for what one meant to do, thought Mona with a feeling of self-pity. -
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Kitty Trenire
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Unknown
Year:
Unknown
Raiting:
3.5/5
To reach the garden from the house one had to pass through a cobbled yard, with the back wing of the house and a stable on one side of it, and a coach-house and another stable on the other.
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Dick and Brownie
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Unknown
Year:
Unknown
Raiting:
4.5/5
The old horse standing patiently by, with drooping head and hopeless, patient eyes, looked starved and weak. His poor body was so thin that the bones seemed ready to push through the skin, on which showed the marks of the blows he had received that morning. Nearby was Dick, the dog, as thin as the horse, but younger -- a lank, yellow, ugly, big-bodied dog, with a clever head, bright, speaking brown eyes, and as keen a nose for scent as any dog ever born possessed. The dog set his nose to the ground he dashed to the edge of the little wood and beyond it . . . then took to his heels and raced ahead with a joy -- it was the scent of his little mistress, Huldah! -- which almost forced a yelp of triumph from his throat. The old horse raised his head and looked after the dog wistfully. "If only I were as young and fleet, and able to get away as quietly!" he thought longingly. Far ahead of the pursuing dog, Huldah looked around nervously. She was not so frightened by the prospect of the want and loneliness and uncertainty which lay before her, as she was by the thought of being caught -- and taken back again . . . for she had escaped those cruel people and never wanted to see them again!
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Cornwall's Wonderland
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Unknown
Year:
Unknown
Raiting:
3.5/5
First published 1914 --This text refers to the Paperback edition.
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The Carroll Girls
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Unknown
Year:
Unknown
Raiting:
1/5
This book was converted from its physical edition to the digital format by a community of volunteers. You may find it for free on the web. Purchase of the Kindle edition includes wireless delivery.
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