Explore "Four Winds Farm" by Mary Louisa Molesworth on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Now my brothers call from the bay, / Now the great winds shoreward blow, / Now the salt tides seaward flow, / Now the wild white horses play, / Champ and chafe and toss in the spray, / Children dear, let us away! / This way, this way! " / _The Forsaken Merman_
The winter -- the real winter, such as it is known up in that country -- came on slowly that year. There was no snow and but little frost before Christmas. Fergus gained ground steadily, and his mother, who at first had dreaded the experiment of the bleak but bracing air, was so encouraged that she stayed on from week to week. And through these weeks there was never a half-holiday which the two boys did not spend together.