Jude the Obscure

Jude the Obscure

  THE schoolmaster outdoor fitness equipment was leaving the village, and everybody seemed sorry. The miller at Cresscombe lent him the small white tilted cart and horse to carry his goods to the city of his destination, about twenty miles off, such a vehicle plastic toys proving of quite sufficient size for the departing teacher's effects. For the schoolhouse had been partly furnished by the managers, and the only cumbersome article possessed by the men's polo master, in addition to the packing-case of books, was a cottage piano that he had bought at an auction during the year in which he thought of learning instrumental music. But the enthusiasm having waned he had never amusement equipment acquired any skill in playing, and the purchased article had been a perpetual trouble to him ever since in moving house.
  The rector runescape money had gone away for the day, being a man who disliked the sight of changes. He did not mean to return till the evening, when the new school-teacher would have arrived and settled in, and everything would be booster pump smooth again.
  The blacksmith, the farm bailiff, and the schoolmaster himself were standing in magnetic pump perplexed attitudes in the parlour before the instrument. The master had remarked that even if he got it into the cart he should not know what to do with diaphragm pump it on his arrival at Christminster, the city he was bound for, since he was only going into temporary lodgings just at first.
Tears rose chemical pump into the boy's eyes, for he was not among the regular day scholars, who came unromantically close to the schoolmaster's life, but one who had attended the night school only during the present centrifugal pump teacher's term of office. The regular scholars, if the truth must be told, stood at the present moment afar off, like certain historic disciples, indisposed to any enthusiastic volunteering sewage pump of aid.
  The cart creaked across the green, and disappeared round the corner by the rectory-house. The multistage pump boy returned to the draw-well at the edge of the greensward, where he had left his buckets when he went to help his patron and teacher in the loading. There was a playground equipments quiver in his lip now and after opening the well-cover to begin lowering the bucket he paused and leant with his forehead and arms against the framework, his face wearing the fixity of a thoughtful child's who has felt the pricks of life somewhat before his time. The well into which he was plastic mold printing machine looking was as ancient as the village itself, and from his present position appeared as a long circular perspective ending in a shining disk of quivering water at a distance of a film blowing machine hundred feet down. There was a lining of green moss near the top, and nearer still the hart's-tongue fern.
He said to himself, in the runescape gold melodramatic tones of a whimsical boy, that the schoolmaster had drawn at that well scores of times on a morning like this, and would never draw there any more. "I've seen him look down into it, when he was tired with his drawing, just as I do now, and when he rested a bit before carrying the buckets home! But he was Axial fan too clever to bide here any longer--a small sleepy place like this!"