Page 56 Mime. Sorry, but could not help myself

[cellboy]

Ganked from wrascalbc

Page 56 Meme
* Grab the nearest book.
* Open the book to page 56.
* Find the fifth sentence.
* Post the text of the next seven sentences in your journal along with these instructions.
* Don't dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual one: pick the CLOSEST.

"Oftentimes dancing or card-playing follows the tea; and the guests remain until ten o'clock, or even later. In this case the bonnets or hats are removed with the visitors enter. The usual custom is to leave within an hour, and you should then make your adieux to the members of the family. Introductions are not often given, but all can fell at liberty to converse with one another. Evening "tea parties" or "coffees" are gaining much favor, and are kept up till quite late hours. Little tables are placed about the rooms, and all sit around them at lunch, and are as jolly and informal as possible. After a few days a ceremonious call should be paid by the guest, not to exceed ten minutes."


BOOK: This nearest book on my book self is The Household and Ladies Cylopedia, published in 1886. Given as a gift, hand written on the first page, "To Miss Gorden, Compliments of Ella Donnelly, 1889. A friend of my great grandmother.

(Such a perfect entertaining book for a Lady like me! LOL!!)

And we are to tag? (Sooooo Sorry!)

akil
danielefton
dionysus1974
foucaultonacid
grizzlyzone
the_octothorpe
volunqueer
urbear

Comments

[foucaultonacid.livejournal.com]

ouch...
i'm doing it here... and 5th sentence or 5th line???

i'll be anal and go with 5th sentence, including the one that starts the page....

Cormery watched his mother, in her small gray blouse set off by a white collar, sitting in profile on the same uncomfortable chair {} by the window where she had always sat, her back a bit rounded by age, but still not seeking the support of the chair, her hands clasped around a small handkerchief that now and then she would roll into a ball with her stiffened fingers, then leave in the hollow of her dress between her motionless hands, her head turned a little toward the window. She was just as he had been thirty years ago, and behind the wrinkles he once more discovered the same miraculously young face, the arch of her brow as smooth and polished as if they had been case with the forehead , her small straight nose, the mouth still clearly delineated despite the tension at the corners of her lips from her dentures. The neck itself, which is so soon laid waste, had kept its form although the tendons were knotty and the chin a bit slack.
"You went to the hairdresser," Jacques said.
She smiled with her look of a little girl caught in some misdeed. "Yes, you know, you were coming."

Albert Camus. The First Man. Vintage. 1996.

[wrascalism.livejournal.com]

I knew you'd pass it on!

:o)

[urbear]

I feel like I've been given the flu. Oh, well.