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"I don't know," he answered. "I can't do a thing with Jennie Junebug. She knocks me down whenever I meet her. She annoys me." "It's not so much myself I'm thinking of," said Mrs. Ladybug. "It's Farmer Green's fruit trees that I'm disturbed about. Jennie Junebug eats the leaves. I must put an end to that." "I have it!" Freddie Firefly exclaimed suddenly.
What can happen to a woman who sits at home and works crewel antimacassars and reads novels all day, and never drinks anything stronger than tea, and never eats enough to disturb her digestion? She ought to be a female Methuselah."
The winter visitor from the North kicks up the jack-snipe along the beach or tarponizes in the estuaries of the Gulf, and when he comes to the hotel for dinner he eats Chicago dressed beef, but out in the wilderness low-browed cow-folks shoot and stab each other for the possession of scrawny creatures not fit for a pointer-dog to mess on.
Work of the brain eats the brain away. Sleep is the chance and laboratory of repair. If a child's brain-work and sleep are normally proportioned to each other, each night will more than make good each day's loss. Clear heads will greet each welcome morn. But if the reverse occurs, the night will not repair the day; and aching heads will signalize the advance of neuralgia, tubercle, and disease.
The hotels in Brook-street have no one in them, and the staffs of servants stare disconsolately for next season out of all the windows. The very man who goes about like an erect Turtle, between two boards recommendatory of the Sixteen Shilling Trousers, is aware of himself as a hollow mockery, and eats filberts while he leans his hinder shell against a wall.
He washed the dishes and put them away, then he combed his tufts of hair and tied his neckerchief anew. He found Andrew outside his house, feeding the hens. They stood in silence, watching the scramble for bits. "Shoo!" said Andrew, making a dash for a big cochin-china. "She eats a lot more 'an her share," he grumbled, shaking out the dish. "Comin' in?"
A plowman, other things being equal, consumes more than a watchmaker; just as a locomotive burns more fuel than the little engine that runs a sewing machine; the strong able-bodied active man, one who works his brains and muscles up to their full power, eats more than the weak, emaciated and inactive girl, who passes all her time in the recumbent position in bed; and the latter will, other things being equal, endure for a longer period entire abstinence from food.
This he may perhaps do out of bravado, but I don't think so at all events, it is far too much; and he eats a great deal also at his afternoon collation. Bologna, Sept. 8, 1770. NOT to fail in my duty, I must write a few words. I wish you would tell me in your next letter to what brotherhoods I belong, and also let me know the prayers I am bound to offer up for them.
It is the faculty by which the heart eats of the bread of heaven, by which it comes into fellowship with the great and immortal of all ages, by which it walks with Jesus of Nazareth and every spirit like His and learns to read life as love law and see it as leading to eternal good. Hindrances and Helps from Within Worry A Cure for the Blues The Gospel of Song
And they were going to drive back that afternoon, what-what? And how about eats, old dear? Instantly he brought reassurance to her. Ward was such a dear! Of course she loved him. "But you weren't a very good boy last night!" she said. Their hands were locked; but she had shaken a negative when he would have kissed her. Bottomley was everywhere at once. "Rotten!" he confessed, easily.
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