FyberSearch   
home.comcast.net/~mewf_short_stories/Poetess.htm - Site Info
Submit Your Site To Top Search Engines
Just $14.99!
Find Out Which Search Engines Have Included Your Site
Just $8.99!
Learn To Rank Higher In Search Results
Just $24.99!
Instantly Create Targeted Ads With No Setup Fees
.50+ Cents/mo
Advertise On 225+ Search Engines
Just $4.00/mo
 
Site Info

Use this tool to learn about websites, specifically the one you just entered.

If you find some aspect of it inappropriate it is not our fault.

If you are the owner of this website: yes we are a real search engine, we do have a real web crawler called FyberSpider and you can block it if you feel the urge.


Is It Cataloged?

We are in the process of updating this tool. Until we are done just use our search results to check the inclusion status of your site.

Visit this website or continue reading for info about this site saved by the FyberSearch web crawler FyberSpider.


Date & Time Cataloged

June 26th, 2008 at 7:50am


Headers

Date: Thu, 26 Jun 2008 12:45:21 GMT
Server: Apache
Last-Modified: Fri, 22 Feb 2008 05:50:38
GMT
ETag: "179f5ae-8aec-47be62ae"
Accept-Ranges: bytes
Content-Length: 35564
Connection:
close
Content-Type: text/html


Page Title

A Poetess


Stripped Text Content

This is just a sample of the content found on this website. Please visit the website to read the entire page.


" A Poetess Mary E. Wilkins From A New England Nun and Other Stories (Harper & Brothers Publishers; New York: 1891) The garden-patch at the right of the house was all a gay spangle with sweet-peas and red-flowering beans, and flanked with feathery asparagus. A woman in blue was moving about there. Another woman, in a black bonnet, stood at the front door of the house. She knocked and waited. She could not see from where she stood the blue-clad woman in the garden. The house was very close to the road, from which a tall evergreen hedge separated it, and the view to the side was in a measure cut off. The front door was open; the woman had to reach to knock on it, as it swung into the entry. She was a small woman and quite young, with a bright alertness about her which had almost the effect of prettiness. It was to her what greenness and crispness are to a plant. She poked her little face forward, and her sharp pretty eyes took in the entry and a room at the left, of which the door stood open. The entry was small and square and unfurnished, except for a well-rubbed old card-table against the back wall. The room was full of green light from the tall hedge, and bristling with grasses and flowers and asparagus stalks. “Betsey, you there?” called the woman. When she spoke, a yellow canary, whose cage hung beside the front door, began to chirp and twitter. “Betsey, you there?” the woman called again. The bird's chirps came in a quick volley; then he began to trill and sing. “She ain't there,” said the woman. She turned and went out of the yard through the gap in the hedge; then she looked around. She caught sight of the blue figure in the garden. “There she is,” said she. She went around the house to the garden. She wore a gay cashmere-patterned calico dress with her mourning bonnet, and she held it carefully away from the dewy grass and vines. The other woman did not notice her until she was close to her and said, “G"
....
read entire page