Explore "Pansy's Pansy" by Mary Louisa Molesworth on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There was a flower-market once a week in the town of Northclough.
It was every Thursday, the regular market-day, when the country people came in to sell and to buy. But Northclough was not a pretty, old-fashioned country town, such as you would very likely fancy from the mention of markets and country folk. Once, long ago, it had been a village, a rather lonely and out-of-the-way village, though never a pretty one. For it was up in the north, as its name tells, in a bare and cold part of the world, where the grass is never very brightly green, and the skies much more often grey than blue.