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Though he could not for his life have told what these things were called, he knew Miss Wodehouse's dove-coloured dress and her French grey; and all those gleams of blue which set off Lucy's fair curls, and floated about her pretty person under various pretences, had a distinct though inarticulate place in the good man's confused remembrance.

Thin curls of smoke began to define the Union position before noon thousands of coffee-pots were simmering on the fires. At last, a tall man, followed by a little group of officers and a squadron of cavalry, rode down the ridge toward the mansion. These troopers surrounded the house, forming one circle near and another much further away, so that none could approach without causing prompt alarm.

One upper window he watched with peculiar interest, from the fact that, early in the day, a head had protruded from it a moment, as if to inhale the wintry air, and then been quickly withdrawn. "Does Miss Johnson wear curls?" he asked, rather indifferently, with his eye still on the cottage by the river. "Yes; a great profusion of them," was Mrs.

And farther down the bank, among a group of warriors, a brown baby on his shoulder and his long curls shining in the sunset, was that incomparable adventurer, Alfred de Courtenay. Apparently he had not come for barter, nor for anything save the love of the unusual, the thirst for adventure that had brought him primarily to the wilderness.

It varies in tint, however, more than that of the Malay, and is sometimes a dusky-brown. The hair is very peculiar, being harsh, dry, and frizzly, growing in little tufts or curls, which in youth are very short and compact, but afterwards grow out to a considerable length, forming the compact frizzled mop which is the Papuans' pride and glory.

Her cheeks were touched here and there with pink, as if rose leaves had left their tender stain her eyes beautifully bright, and such depths of blue, with arched brows above them, and long brown lashes for a shield. Her hair rippled over her shoulders in brown curls, and around her was thrown the light India shawl she had about her on that sad night.

"See her twist her hair," he snarled venomously as the young woman, still boldly eying Nathaniel, played with the luxuriant curls that glistened in the sun upon her breast. "Ezra Wilton is so fond of her that he will take no other wife. Ugh, Strang is a fool!" Nathaniel turned away from the smiling eyes with a shrug. "Why?"

"Along the river there's a tree very big an' awfull' fat, you know, with a lot of stickie-out branches, an' a hole in its stomach they're in there." "Reginald!" called Lisbeth. "Up stream or down?" "That way," he answered, pointing vaguely down stream; and with a nod that brought the yellow curls over his eyes he scampered off.

A burst of gleeful and hearty laughter made him turn his face towards the bed; he saw Pauline's face through the transparent curtains, smiling like a child for gladness over a successful piece of mischief. Her pretty hair fell over her shoulders in countless curls; she looked like a Bengal rose upon a pile of white roses. "I cajoled Jonathan," said she.

A thousand times, a million times, perhaps. He tried to count again, and sat up to listen better. "Dying, dying, dying!" said the watch; "dying, dying, dying!" He heard it distinctly. Where were they going to, all those people? He lay down quickly, and pulled the cover up over his head: but presently the silky curls reappeared. "Dying, dying, dying!" said the watch; "dying, dying, dying!"