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The way these natives thread the dense jungle is to me a wonder; they seem to know every devious path and hidden recess, and they traverse the most gloomy and dangerous solitudes without betraying the slightest apprehension. In fastening dead game to the pad of the carrying elephant great care is necessary.
Thus far, looking at the rite on its outward side, from the point of view of the spectator, we have seen that the worshippers, carrying with them something material, draw near to the place where the god manifests himself. From this series of actions and gestures, we have inferred the belief of the worshippers to be that they are drawing near to their god both physically and spiritually.
On getting out of the harbor, she steamed into a bank of solid fog, and only got out of it the next morning, just before passing Hellgate, at the head of East River, New York. On the passage down Long Island Sound she met with an accident. She ran into the schooner Resurrection, which was lying becalmed across her course, carrying away most of the schooner's bowsprit, but doing no serious damage.
She thought she might slip away into a little glade at the back of the house that afternoon, and there read her letter, and ponder over its contents. Events, however, were to occur which would prevent Primrose carrying out this scheme.
"The way you're carrying on, I assume there are people in Kansas who can hear you." But he cowered behind Telly as he said so. "Hello, my good woman," said Telly, holding out one of his peculiar triangle-shaped arms. His handshake was not accepted by the wicked woman.
Farther on, though on the same side, an Antinoues. In the niche, under the steps in the middle of the terrace towards the river, a Cleopatra. In the alley of orange-trees, near the Place de la Concorde, Meleager; and on the terrace, next to the riding-house, Hercules Farnese. In the niche to the right, in front of the octagonal basin, a Faun carrying a kid. In the one to the left, Mercury Farnese.
"God forgive me," he cried, "for ever putting on another!" Count Rochambeau had told a pretty story about his journey from Newport with General Washington. One evening, as they passed through a large town, the people came out to greet their General. Throngs of children carrying torches crowded about him, touching his hands and calling him "Father."
The fragrant breath of a flower, the passing song of the merry milk-maid, a soothing word from one we love, will often change the whole current of our thoughts and feelings, and, by carrying us back to the days of childhood, or bringing to our remembrance some innocent and happy state which steals over us like a long-forgotten dream, will dissipate the clouds of sorrow, and even the still deeper shades of falsity and evil.
Sheppard, on a rustic bench, when a Negro maid appeared in the doorway carrying a smiling, black-eyed baby. Colonel Zane took the child and, holding it aloft, said with fatherly pride: "This is Rebecca Zane, the first girl baby born to the Zanes, and destined to be the belle of the border." "May I have her?" asked Helen softly, holding out her arms.
They therefore walked abroad, carrying in their hands flowers or fragrant herbs or divers sorts of spices, which they frequently raised to their noses, deeming it an excellent thing thus to comfort the brain with such perfumes, because the air seemed to be everywhere laden and reeking with the stench emitted by the dead and the dying and the odours of drugs.
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