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Don't you think such a scandal would ruin Dale at the very beginning of his career?" There was a short silence. I was glad to see she was feminine enough to twist and tear her handkerchief. "What am I to do?" she asked at last. "I can't live this awful lonely life much longer. Sometimes I get the creeps."
The tree which welled forth milk when struck by the axe was the Ficus elastica a sort of gigantic vine, as thick as a man's arm, which creeps along the ground, sending forth new roots from the joint, and, climbing at length some lofty tree, expands in branches.
"As yet, behind high ramparts stem and proud Where bolted thunders sleep, Dark Sumter like a battlemented cloud Towers o'er the solemn deep. "But still along the dim Atlantic's line The only hostile smoke Creeps like a harmless mist above the brine From some frail floating oak.
A twenty-mule team dragging three huge wagons creeps slowly along the base of the distant mountains, but all that can be distinguished is a cloud of dust.
Except where the inexorable tyranny of birth creeps in, our matrimonial alliances are, for the most part, purged of the cool calculation of Scotland, or the bread and beef considerations of the English. This may be censurable in us, and doubtless it is; but, still, the charge lies more against our heads than our hearts.
It is not a sea-weed, but a real flowering plant, which, for some reason or other, loves to grow under water. It creeps in the sand and mud, with green leaves growing up as thick as corn in a cornfield. All these waving green leaves make large meadows in the sea; and sea-snails, fishes, and crabs hide in it, just as all manner of living things hide in the grass of our meadows.
The necessity for the completion of this work, and his desire to give his children every advantage of study, kept him longer in Europe than he had expected, and he writes to his brother Sidney on December 1, 1867: "I long to return, for age creeps on apace, and I wish to put my house in order for a longer and better journey to a better home."
Essentially the same thing survives in the Popish Church, under the name of mortal and venial sins; and it creeps sooner or later into every denomination, in its robes of an angel of light. But it belongs to the darkness. Sin! Do we know the meaning of that awful word? I believe none but God knows rightly what sin is.
There is not a single light on it from one end to the other. It creeps in like a great snake. There is nobody to tell you whether this is your train or not, but you take a chance and climb into a compartment which is pitch-dark.
He creeps away under the washstand and broods. We take these darling things and give them little souls and hearts, and we've no business to hurt them. And they've such a tiny time to live, too... Look at him, sitting up to be carried, like a child." "Oh wait, my dear, till you have a child. You ridiculous baby." "Oh come, Jerrold's every bit as gone on him."
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