{"id":18,"date":"2007-10-20T12:55:18","date_gmt":"2007-10-20T19:55:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/features\/randomly-wuthered-post"},"modified":"2007-10-20T12:55:18","modified_gmt":"2007-10-20T19:55:18","slug":"randomly-wuthered-post","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/2007\/10\/20\/randomly-wuthered-post\/","title":{"rendered":"a randomly wuthered post&#8230;"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Meanwhile, the young man had slung on to his person a decidedly   shabby upper garment, and, erecting himself before the blaze,   looked down on me from the corner of his eyes, for all the world as if there were some mortal feud unavenged between us.  <!--more--><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.terrawolf.com\/gallery\/2530757#147893281\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Trevigue Wagon Wheel\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/www.terrawolf.com\/photos\/147893281-S-1.jpg\" alt=\"Wagon Wheel at Trevigue\" title=\"Cornwall Wagon Wheel\" align=\"left\" height=\"134\" width=\"200\" \/><\/a> I began to   doubt whether he were a servant or not: his dress and speech were   both rude, entirely devoid of the superiority observable in Mr. and   Mrs. Heathcliff; his thick brown curls were rough and uncultivated,   his whiskers encroached bearishly over his cheeks, and his hands   were embrowned like those of a common labourer: still his bearing   was free, almost  haughty, and he showed none of a domestic&#8217;s   assiduity in attending on the lady of the house. In the absence of   clear proofs of his condition, I deemed it best to abstain from   noticing his curious conduct; and, five minutes afterwards, the   entrance of Heathcliff relieved me, in some measure, from my   uncomfortable state.<\/p>\n<p><em><strong>Yet more can be done&#8230;<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n<p><em><strong>Truly I wonder what I should paste next&#8230;<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.terrawolf.com\/gallery\/2530757#147419182\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Terrawolf Landscape Photo\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/www.terrawolf.com\/photos\/147419182-S-1.jpg\" alt=\"Kells Priory Tower\" title=\"Kells Priory Tower\" align=\"right\" height=\"134\" width=\"200\" \/><\/a>In vapid listlessness I leant my head against the window, and   continued spelling over Catherine Earnshaw &#8211; Heathcliff &#8211; Linton,   till my eyes closed; but they had not rested five minutes when a   glare of white letters started from the dark, as vivid as spectres   &#8211; the air swarmed with Catherines; and rousing myself to dispel the   obtrusive name, I discovered my candle-wick reclining on one of the  antique volumes, and perfuming the place with an odour of roasted   calf-skin. I snuffed it off, and, very ill at ease under the   influence of cold and lingering nausea, sat up and spread open the   injured tome on my knee.<\/p>\n<p>It was a Testament, in lean type, and   smelling dreadfully musty: a fly-leaf bore the inscription &#8211;   &#8216;Catherine Earnshaw, her book,&#8217; and a date some quarter of a   century back. I shut it, and took up another and another, till I   had examined all. Catherine&#8217;s library was select, and its state of   dilapidation proved it to have been well used, though not   altogether for a legitimate purpose: scarcely one chapter had   escaped, a pen-and-ink commentary &#8211; at least the appearance of one   &#8211; covering every morsel of blank that the printer<img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/www.terrawolf.com\/photos\/134694508-S-2.jpg\" alt=\"Cornwall Farmhouse\" title=\"Cornwall farmhouse\" align=\"left\" height=\"134\" width=\"200\" \/> had left. Some   were detached sentences; other parts took the form of a regular   diary, scrawled in an unformed, childish hand. At the top of an   extra page (quite a treasure, probably, when first lighted on) I   was greatly amused to behold an excellent caricature of my friend   Joseph, &#8211; rudely, yet powerfully sketched. An immediate interest   kindled within me for the unknown Catherine, and I began forthwith   to decipher her faded hieroglyphics.<\/p>\n<p>PS&#8230; Thank you, Emily, for both your writing and for providing me some sample content to mess around with \ud83d\ude42<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Meanwhile, the young man had slung on to his person a decidedly shabby upper garment, and, erecting himself before the blaze, looked down on me from the corner of his eyes, for all the world as if there were some mortal feud unavenged between us.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[113],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pheonix.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}