Raindrops: The Case Of Angelica Porter

“It’s not everyday we get company around here,” I reminded myself, “we haven’t shown our chateau in ages.” As we walked down the elegant staircase, each step creaked one by one. My hand-held lamp with the bright, burning fire was in clutch as we walked around the dusty furniture until we saw some of my men. They were silent, but you could see the fear in their eyes - almost like the fear in Rainsford’s. One had the guts to come up, and offer another light looking for a way to impress me with his concern, but I quickly declined.

While doing so, she ponders the conditions of the street and its entirety, which lead up to this exact moment. Although Lutie and Bub suffer heavily, Mrs. Hedges, a madame who lives in the same apartment complex as them, also suffers a great deal. One day, the poor infrastructure of the street resulted in Mrs. Hedges’ apartment burning down. She escapes, scarred by the situation. “She felt her flesh tear and actually give away as she struggled to get out, forcing and squeezing her body through the small space” (p. 244).

“There was music from my neighbor's house through the summer nights. In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and he champagne and the stars. At high tide in the afternoon I watched his guests diving from the tower of his raft, or taking the sun on the hot sand of his beach while his motor-boats slid the waters of the Sound, drawing aquaplanes over cataracts of foam. On week-ends his Rolls-Royce became an omnibus, bearing parties to and from the city between nine in the morning and long past midnight, while his station wagon scampered like a brisk yellow bug to meet all trains. And on Mondays eight servants, including an extra gardener, toiled all day with

In addition to this Victorian home, the household also owned a cabin in Arnold, California. The subject also seemed to enjoy time spent there, as snow was frequent in the winter months of the year. There the subject enjoyed many of her most fond early memories, and learned the meaning of her name which is “to bind together.”

“It was December and the weather bitterly cold. She was a tiny mite, the size of five years, though, as afterward appeared, she was then nine. From a pan set upon a low stool she stood washing dishes, struggling with a frying pan about as heavy as herself. Across the table lay a brutal whip of twisted leather strands and the child's meagre arms and legs bore many marks of its use. But the saddest part of her story was written on her face in its look of suppression and misery, the face of a child unloved, of a child that had seen only the fearsome side of life. These things I saw while seeming not to see, and I left without speaking to, or of, the child. I never

She stood there, a tall, thin steal gray fluffy haired figure on the top step for a second. And then looked down at the fair-haired children and smiled widely revealing a large gap between her two front teeth. She laughed cheerfully and declared, "Pay no mind to her. She's not so bad once you get to know her." Anna wondered about that. She seemed as if she were pretty good at being furious. "Come on, follow me." The lady said as she opened the door and allowed them to pass, "My name's Miss Margot. Now come along, there's no time to dawdle." She said in her sing-song voice and led them down a long, dark, narrow hallway that was lined with solid wood paneling. As we walked, she tugged at their arms to quicken their pace. Eventually she stopped and pressed on a spot in one of the boards and a door popped open. She and the children hurried into the cold, damp lopsided little basement storage area that was filled with spider webs and smelt dank. Once inside the room Anna noticed that a single light bulb on a long cord swayed from the ceiling and an old broken folding chair and a chamber pot leaned against one of the walls. And that in the back of the room there was a tiny, grimy window that permitted a sliver of evening moonlight to pass through. "That's yours." Miss Margot said and pointed her

The words of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, “Water, water, everywhere, / Nor any drop to drink” (121-22) might well be applied to John Grisham’s A Painted House (despite the fact there was ample drinking water) because of the prominence of water in the novel. From the water pump in the Chandler’s yard (Grisham 20) to the demand of Hank Spruill to Luke Chandler for a drink of cold water (46-47) to the constant drone of the farmers about “rain, rain, rain,” (323), this monograph is filled with water. The most conspicuous water, however, is the St. Francis River and its tributary, Siler’s Creek. Since time immemorial, “water [has been recognized] as the preeminent symbol associated with creation, fertility, rebirth, renewal, [and] good harvests” (Stowkowski 25). Grisham, however, stretches the symbolic meaning of the waters to include things far beyond these that have been traditionally associated with them. Like many other aspects of the South, these bodies of water are two-faced, having both attractive and unattractive visages; they symbolize both positive and negative aspects (Osthaus 750).

A sickly breeze slithers around the corner of a long brick building and pulls bits of paper and trash into its wickedly spiraling game. Grey fog, twisting and warping into grotesque patterns, oozes up from the dank stream of sewage that floats lazily down the gutters of the stone-made road. A hunchbacked old man trundles through the mist, the collar of his tattered jacket clenched tightly around his face to ward off the slight autumn chill of the brisk morning air. He hardly slows at the sound of another being moving towards him through the smog. A small, dirty child, adorned in a ragged yellow dress waddles by, on her way to the factory where she will spend her day exposed to many hazardous conditions. Thus was the life of the people in

Andrea sat in the break room, waiting for her shift to start at 8:30, her long, crisp black hair covered the back of the seat. Andrea had her face deep into paperwork but, then noticed Mary walked into the room and looked up, took off her glasses and wiped her forehead. Andrea’s porcelain skin, looked like it has barely seen any sunlight, or even touched. Mary and Andrea had most of the day piled up in paperwork, except for their breaks. At lunchtime, Mary added to her stories of sleepwalking into the forest, including the one early in the morning.

Source K is supported by Source L because it gives a descriptive insight into how people in lower class English society lived during the Victorian era. Source L helps us to imagine what the narrow passage and the inside and outside of their house looked like. For example, Sims writes; “The walls are damp and crumbling the ceiling is black and peeling off, and the floor is rotten and broken away in places and the wind and the rain sweep in through gaps that seem everywhere”. This descriptive quote written by George Sims in an article named “How the poor live”, gives us an insight of how the majority of the lower class English people lived, thus giving us a more descripted visual representation of what poor people in English society lived like.

“A girl was standing there looking in. She had full, rouged lips and wide spaced eyes, heavily made up. Her fingernails were red. Her hair hung in little rolled clusters, like sausages. She wore a cotton house dress and red mules, on the insteps of which were little red ostrich feathers.

She walked up the stair unhurried, her steps confident, and her hair still perfect without fault. As she reached the top of the stair there was slight hill that rose up before her, stood heavily on top was a creature that made her top lip rise in an act of disgust. It was easily 7ft tall, built similarly to a man, but its legs were thick and tough, no feet at the bottom like any person, they resembled an elephants, hard and wide, made to balance the large creature it was carrying. Its arms were disproportioned; the top of the arm was thinner than the bottom, getting wider and more engorged as it got closer to its hand. The hand looked like a swollen mess, heavy and fat with its tiny fingers poking out, similar to a plastic glove that had been blown up like a balloon. But it was its face that was the most disgusting thing to the girl. It was small and lumpy, its mouth taking up a large part of it, almost splitting the face. The mouth was long and thin, the sharp spikes of teeth had shot through its lips on multiply occasions, leaving the tough skin around its mouth shredded and scarred. And at the top of its head was its eyes, they were fish like, unblinking and dull. The creature in front of her was disgustingly

She is finally faced with the place that she has been romanticizing about and it leaves her heart, a place generally viewed as a sacred home to our dearest and most meaningful feelings, filled with joy. She was unable to feel this delight living with her husband in Tennessee. In the next line, she says “the prettiest place on earth was Baltimore at night”. Here the night takes the appearance of something glamorous, but in reality the city streets at night are a dangerous place for a young woman. Even with the woman obviously exerting her greedy tendencies, the narrator still holds her in high esteem as he is “proud to give his woman what she is longing for” and “kind of like[s] the streets of Baltimore”.

It took very long, but by sunset, she recognized her farm and her fields. But it had been destroyed. The fields looked as if they had erupted, and her animals were missing. But her house was the saddest . . . it was gone. All her belongings were scattered everywhere.

After reading the article by Roy Adkins on “13 Reasons Why You Wouldn’t Want to Live in Jane Austen’s England”, I have an altered idea on what life was like for people living in that time. From dodgy dentistry to spotty surgeries, times in Jane Austen’s life were much more difficult than they are today. Nonetheless, I became interested in the life and tedious work of the chimney sweepers. With how chimney sweepers of Jane Austen’s time had to sweep soot caught in the chimneys as well as battling injuries and death along the way, this is their story.