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I endeavored to treat the matter lightly. "Is that all?" I asked; "do you mean that perhaps Mr. Hall was calling on some other lady acquaintance that evening?" "Yes, that is what I do mean. And, as I say, I have no real reason to think it. But still, Mr. Burroughs, if it were true, I cannot agree with you that it is unimportant.
I think it was that which hanged her, as his strong arm hanged Minister George Burroughs; but it may have been a little mole on one cheek, which the artist had just hinted as a beauty rather than a deformity. You know, I suppose, that nursling imps addict themselves, after the fashion of young opossums, to these little excrescences.
I think you have unusual reflective power; and I am sure that in time you will find time and occasion for its exercise, and will accomplish some honorable tasks. Very truly yours, D. A. Wasson It maybe fancy on my part, but I have a feeling that, all unconsciously to Mr. Burroughs, a sentence or two in Mr.
But he only said, "Then you're the man to bring that result about, Mr. Burroughs. I have great confidence in your powers as a detective." He took his leave, and I was not sorry, for I wanted an opportunity to see Florence alone. "I am so sorry," she said, and for the first time I saw tears in her dear, beautiful eyes, "to hear that about Uncle Philip. But Mr.
He says: "Moralizing in a fairy story is like the snoring of Bottom in Titania's lap." But I think this applies to all stories, and most especially to those by which we do wish to teach something. John Burroughs says in his article, "Thou Shalt Not Preach": "Didactic fiction can never rank high.
The impression, however, which Burroughs might have produced was neutralized by Cotton Mather, who appeared on horseback among the crowd, and took occasion to remind the people that Burroughs, though a preacher, was no "ordained" minister, and that the devil would sometimes assume even the garb of an angel of light. At a fourth session of the court six women were tried and found guilty.
The young man, in times long past, had often met his gaze within the looking-glass; the girl was the very image of his first love, his cottage love, his Martha Burroughs! Mr. Smith was scandalized. "O, vile and slanderous picture!" he exclaims. "When have I triumphed over ruined innocence?
Galloway, with an old man's garrulity and a confirmed moral poseur's eagerness about appearances, began to unfold his virtuous reasons for the impending break with Burroughs the industrial and financial war out of which he expected to come doubly rich and all but supreme. Midway he stopped. "You are not listening," said he sharply to the young man. Their eyes met. Norman's eyes were twinkling.
Muir told us about the great trees he used to saw into timber during his early years in the valley, showing us the site of his old mill, and bragging that he built it and kept it in repair at a cost of less than twenty-five cents a year. It seemed strange that he, a tree-lover, could have cut down those noble spruces and firs, and I whispered this to Mr. Burroughs.
Compare a paragraph or two of the early Burroughs on his birch-clad lake country, or Thoreau upon Concord pines, with the "natural history paragraph" that English magazines used to publish, and you will feel it.
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