Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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Farmers’ daughters, as a rule are not lusty, broad-shouldered wenches with big red arms and necks like bulls, as some of you probably suppose, nor are they the unsophisticated creatures, green as their own meadow grass, soft as their own butter, the stereotyped guileless victims of stereotyped wicked squires, as dramatists and writers of rural tales would have you believe.

They can display as much finesse in their best parlours as any peeress in her gilded drawing-room; and although they might be at a loss to understand the intricate compliments of a Belgravian roué, they play their plebeian gudgeons with as light a hand as ever tortured a titled trout in a West-end mansion.

In describing Patty Jamblin I present to you a fair specimen of the class.

She was long-haired, and blue-eyed with a clear white skin.

Her hands and forearms were a little red and rough from manual labour, but her neck and forehead were like polished ivory.

Her eyes were mild and candid, and could be roguish when they pleased.