Manual Greenglass House

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Greenglass House (Greenglass House #1), Ghosts of Greenglass House ( Greenglass House #2), Bluecrowne (Greenglass House #3), and The Thief Knot .
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Milo scowled. But he nodded and finished getting dressed for the cold. He followed his mother out onto the porch and across the lawn to a break in the dark wall of bare white birches and blue-green firs that covered the hillside. There, in a pool of deeper shadow, the grass gave way to a stone landing.

Greenglass House (Greenglass House Series #1)

All his life, ever since he was really small, Milo had been very bothered by sudden changes of plan. More than bothered. Being surprised made him uneasy at the best of times. Now, tromping across the fresh snow in the bitter cold to haul a stranger up the hill, an unexpected stranger who was going to require him to work when all he really wanted was a quiet week or so with his parents and his house to himself.

Pine had turned on the light in the little pavilion hidden in the trees where the cable railway landed. The railway began a hundred yards below, at the river. There were other ways to get to the bottom of the gorge, or to get to the top if you were down.


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There was a steep and winding stair that ran more or less parallel to the railway and led to the same pavilion. There was also a road that snaked away from the inn and around the side of the hill down into the city proper, which was about a twenty-minute drive away. Caraway, ever really used the road.

Given the option of being hauled up the steep hill in an antique conveyance that looked like a demented and oversized bumper car on rails or climbing three hundred and ten steps Milo had counted , they always chose the former. Inside the stone-floored pavilion were a bench, a shed, and the steel tracks of the railway. Pine unlocked the shed, and Milo followed her inside to where the heavy cable that ran between the tracks looped around the giant spindle of the winch.

Greenglass House (Greenglass House Series #1)

Thanks to a complex mess of gears, once you got the winch going, it did all the work necessary to haul the single car up the slope. But it was old, and the lever tended to stick. Getting it moving was easier with two pairs of hands. Together, Milo and his mother grasped the lever. The cold metal of the gears whined like an old dog, and then they started to turn. As Milo and Mrs. Pine waited for the railcar to click and clank its way to the top of the slope, he wondered what kind of person it was bringing up.

Smugglers came in all kinds, and of course sometimes the inn had guests who were sailors or travelers and not smugglers at all. But not very often—and almost never in winter, when the Skidwrack and its hidden inlets were so often frozen. While Milo was thinking, winding trails of glittering white firefly-sized lights came to life, outlining the pavilion and trailing off down the hill along the railing of the stairs. His mother straightened up from where she had just plugged them in.

An elf on the lam from the North Pole? A popgun runner? Eggnog bootlegger? Loser makes it. And stockings.

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Green ones with pink stripes. You could tell where the railcar was by how the sounds it made changed. Milo pictured the misshapen old iron lamppost the car would be passing right about now. It was still out of view, but from the vibration of the rails, he knew it was being hauled up the steepest part of the slope now.

Magazine writers, some weird TV star, trying to see if he can make green and pink stripes a big fashion thing next year. And a sock-puppet company. There it was: the blue metal nose of the railcar with its silver racing stripes painted a few years back by Milo and his father along with its name, Whilforber Whirlwind, on the sides.

And then, a moment later, its passenger: a lanky man in a felt hat and a plain black coat. Milo could just make out a pair of oversized glasses with huge tortoiseshell rims on his nose. He wilted. Maybe even a bit like a schoolteacher. Put on your welcome face.

'Greenglass House' by Kate Milford | District of Columbia Public Library

But he straightened up and tried to look cheerful as the Whirlwind made its final ascent to the pavilion. Up close, the stranger looked even more boring. Plain hat, plain coat, plain face, plain blue suitcase tucked in the boot of the car. Beneath the glasses, though, his eyes were bright and sharp as they flicked from Mrs. Pine to Milo and back. Milo felt himself stiffen. It always started this way, whenever the Pines met someone new. How did a Chinese kid wind up in Nagspeake with that lady for a mom? Obviously adopted. This is my son, Milo. De Cary Vinge.


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  • Vinge said quickly as Milo reached for it. Vinge had to put a foot up on the side of the car and push off for leverage. Uncomprehending, Milo took another look at the stranger. Then he spotted it: one garishly striped sock, visible for just a moment before Mr. Vinge stumbled backwards with his suitcase. Pine whispered. See All Customer Reviews. Shop Kids' Books. Read an excerpt of this book! Add to Wishlist.

    USD 7. Sign in to Purchase Instantly. Jaime is inspired by fairy tales and Flemish painters, non-fiction books, forgotten paper, found textures, and flea market photographs. Pine got to her feet, tucked her book under her arm, padded across to the foyer, and peered out the window by the door. He felt a vague unease start to rise in his stomach and tried to swallow it down. Ah, the all-powerful gentleman card. He had just about finished his homework. That was supposed to be the end of responsibility for a while.

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    The bell rang again. Milo gave in to his frustration, stopped in the middle of the foyer with one boot on, and gave a single, furious yell with his hands clenched at his sides. Pine waited with folded arms until he was finished.


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    • Milo scowled. But he nodded and finished getting dressed for the cold. He followed his mother out onto the porch and across the lawn to a break in the dark wall of bare white birches and blue-green firs that covered the hillside. There, in a pool of deeper shadow, the grass gave way to a stone landing. All his life, ever since he was really small, Milo had been very bothered by sudden changes of plan. More than bothered. Being surprised made him uneasy at the best of times.

      Now, tromping across the fresh snow in the bitter cold to haul a stranger up the hill, an unexpected stranger who was going to require him to work when all he really wanted was a quiet week or so with his parents and his house to himself. Pine had turned on the light in the little pavilion hidden in the trees where the cable railway landed. The railway began a hundred yards below, at the river.

      There were other ways to get to the bottom of the gorge, or to get to the top if you were down. There was a steep and winding stair that ran more or less parallel to the railway and led to the same pavilion. There was also a road that snaked away from the inn and around the side of the hill down into the city proper, which was about a twenty-minute drive away. Caraway, ever really used the road.

      Given the option of being hauled up the steep hill in an antique conveyance that looked like a demented and oversized bumper car on rails or climbing three hundred and ten steps Milo had counted , they always chose the former.

      laconcoslvureab.gq/el-sexo-el-plan-de-dios-para-la-pareja/lvaro-del-portillo-al-servicio-de-la.pdf Inside the stone-floored pavilion were a bench, a shed, and the steel tracks of the railway. Pine unlocked the shed, and Milo followed her inside to where the heavy cable that ran between the tracks looped around the giant spindle of the winch. Thanks to a complex mess of gears, once you got the winch going, it did all the work necessary to haul the single car up the slope.

      Greenglass House by Kate Milford

      But it was old, and the lever tended to stick. Getting it moving was easier with two pairs of hands. Together, Milo and his mother grasped the lever. The cold metal of the gears whined You have selected a product that is available for purchase only by a customer with an Educational Institution account. If you have an Educational Institution account, please sign out and sign back in using an Educational Institution account email address and password.

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