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The conversation turned to the subject of Polly, and, as they were alone together, Mrs. Clover exhibited the letter she had received from that young lady. "Now what have you to say to that, Ebenezer? Don't you call it shameful?" Mr. Sparkes sighed deeply. "I've warned her, Louisa, I've warned her solemn. What more can I do?" "You see how she goes on about Mr. Gammon.
"When they have a thought for every word they utter, Lord! there'll be then a second Sabbath in the week." Next evening Trove went to see Polly. As he was leaving, she held his hand in both of hers and looked down, blushing deeply, as if there were something she would say, had she only the courage. "What is it, Polly?" said he.
He was as deeply enamored as George William Curtis with the highest ideals of life for America, and, like Curtis, his expression caught the grace and distinction of those ideals.
A great deal is required to save our souls, so deeply are we enmeshed in the delight of life and in the delight of one another.... God took my husband from me after an illness of three weeks. That happened forty years ago.
Now, my loves, tell me what arrangements she has come to I am so deeply interested, my poor darlings." Miss Martineau, as she spoke, kept her eyes fixed on Primrose; but that young lady only gave her a puzzled look, and, after a short pause, said quietly "I don't understand you. We have made no special arrangements. Mrs.
After suffering much from fatigue and hunger they arrived at Canton, overland, on the 17th ult. This event has cast gloom again over our small circle. But one month previous to his death, Pohlman with myself had closed the eyes of dear Lloyd. Oh, how deeply we do feel, and shall for a long time feel this loss." "Feb. 11th.
Bob ran off, and the big black looked at me, threw back his head, and laughed, and laughed again, as he drove the spade deeply into the rich loamy soil; and when the bread and bacon came he laughed, and bit with those great white teeth of his, and munched and chewed like the lying-down oxen, and dug and dug, till my father said, "No more to-night," and bade me carry in the spades.
She was pondering deeply all the abuses of society. She had become enamored of the republican liberty of antiquity. She was ready to embrace with enthusiasm any hopes of change.
The father, however, had been struck as deeply as the mother. His ambition, if of a different kind, had been quite as great as that of Mrs. Wickersham, and the hard-headed, keen-sighted man, who had spent his life fighting his way to the front, often with little consideration for the rights of others, felt that one of his motives and one of his rewards had perished together.
The last house of Frankfort dropped behind them, and soon the boat was shooting along the deep channel cut by the Kentucky through the Bluegrass, then the richest and most beautiful region of the west, abounding in famous men and in the height of its glory. It had never looked more splendid. The grass was deeply luxuriant and young flowers bloomed at the water's edge.
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