It takes the average reader 3 hours and 6 minutes to read MIRIAM by DANIEL FREDERICK EDWARD SYKES, LARGE PRINT by D. F. E. Sykes
Assuming a reading speed of 250 words per minute. Learn more
I must have dropped off into a morning dose, for when I came back again to consciousness Jim was sat on the side of his couch, a little rickety, spindle-shanked, rush-bottomed chair in front of him, against the back of which was propped a small mirror about the size of a sheet of note-paper, its usefulness and beauty much marred by a crack that ran diagonally across a blotted surface. The half of a cocoanut shell, which served Jim as a shaving pot, rested on the floor, and Jim was alternately stropping a very harsh-scraping razor, lathering his face and throat, and shaving himself as he wielded the razor in the right hand and pinched his nose firmly with the left."Did ta' ivver hear tell o' th' lad at th' schooil at th' inspector wer' hearkening to read?" he broke off to ask, when he noticed that I had opened my eyes."What about him?" I asked."Well he come to one o' them guisehanged long names i' th' Bible, an' baulked at it. 'Say summat sharp,' whispers th' schooilmester. 'Razzer,' says th' lad, 'Razzer'. But it wer' noan this razzer I'll go bail, for I've stropped it till mi shackle warks, an' I'd as soon tha' took a curry comb to me for comfort.""You're making yourself mighty fine to-day, Jim, and it isn't one of your Sundays for Church," I commented, noticing his knee-breeches, and that he had already donned polished shoon with buckles of nickel silver and a striped and starred linen shirt."Church? No, thank God. It's noan Church to-day. I'm off to th' Wakes, and so are ta', mi hearty. Why, man, it's th' Rushbearing, an' aw've n'er missed th' Rushbearing sin' aw wer' a little 'un, an' aw n'er mean to. There'll be some ale stirring to-day at th' Church, aw can tell thee, an' aw'st ha' mi share on 't, tha' may bet thi Sunday booits.""At the Church?" I queried."Aye, th' Church Inn, to be sure. Don't thee act so gaumless. Ger up an' don thee, lad. Aw do believe there's a collop for breakfas', aw hear it sizzlin', an' smell it, too, for that matter. So doant tha be so greedy on th' porridge, leave a corner for th' collop."And if any assurance were needed that breakfast was well forward it was supplied by the shrill voice of Mother Haigh calling at the bottom of the stairs:"Are yo' idle good-for-nowts goin' to lig i' bed till th' wheel starts to morn? Th' porridge's bin ready this bit back, an' th' bacon's welly stuck to th' pan bottom Ger up, do."Was there ever so clean a kitchen as Mary Haigh's, I wonder. Certainly there never was one oftener fettled. Jim's mother had few household gods, but those I verily believe she worshipped. The floor was sanded, the hearth blue-storied, the steel fender shone like burnished silver, you could see your face reflected with queer distortions in the brass knob of the oven door, the oaken press and settle and the deal chairs fairly sparkled with what Mary called elbow grease, the top of the little round three-legged table was white almost as driven snow. And as for Mary herself, sure never was a nattier little woman in all Yorkshire or Lancashire to boot. Nor a harder working. She was a tewer, as all the country-side would tell you, and always had been since she had been left a widow with little Jim still at the breast. She'd kept herself and Jim too, and anyone could see that Jim at all events hadn't wanted. Even yet she did some burling in the house, and many of the hands at Wrigley's paid her no less than a penny a week-bar missings-to heat their dinners for them, and in summer time she brewed for the behoof of the mill-girls a sweet and heady beverage called treacle-drink, of which the great merit was that it cost only a meg, in other words a half-penny, the quart, but which, Jim avowed, more in sorrow than in anger, possessed the fatal drawback that you got no forrader on a bucketful.We'd an extra spread for this morning's meal in honour of the Wakes. We started on the porridge.
MIRIAM by DANIEL FREDERICK EDWARD SYKES, LARGE PRINT by D. F. E. Sykes is 184 pages long, and a total of 46,736 words.
This makes it 62% the length of the average book. It also has 57% more words than the average book.
The average oral reading speed is 183 words per minute. This means it takes 4 hours and 15 minutes to read MIRIAM by DANIEL FREDERICK EDWARD SYKES, LARGE PRINT aloud.
MIRIAM by DANIEL FREDERICK EDWARD SYKES, LARGE PRINT is suitable for students ages 10 and up.
Note that there may be other factors that effect this rating besides length that are not factored in on this page. This may include things like complex language or sensitive topics not suitable for students of certain ages.
When deciding what to show young students always use your best judgement and consult a professional.
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