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There was a rush of black-clad girls, with resplendent violet "F's" ornamenting their breasts, another volley of cheers from the audience, then a shrill blast from the referee's whistle rent the air, the teams dropped into their places, the umpire, time-keeper and scorer took their stations, and a tense silence settled over the audience. The referee balanced the ball.
Only it wasn't so easy to read as it looks now we're writing it over. For "The Theory and Practise of Gardening" made you rub your eyes and groan, it was such a puzzling sort of book. To begin with its type was bewildering with its s's all turned like f's and its italics so thin you could scarcely decipher them.
Feeling to our enemies. Fidelity to our friends. The three F's: Fat, fair, and forty. The three generals in peace: General peace. General plenty. General satisfaction. The three generals in power: General employment. General industry. General comfort. The three H's: Health, honour, and happiness. Health to all the world. Honour to those who seek for it. Happiness in our homes.
Thomas Henry Maitland, at one time Professor of English at the University of Basle in Switzerland. There's an asterisk against his name and a footnote in very old-fashioned handwriting the 's's' are all 'f's, and half the letters capitals. Listen "'Thomas Maitland, despite the remonstrances of his friends, visited Spain.
Leaving tomorrow. October 11: This constant series of frustrations is beyond endurance. In spite of F's noncommittal pessimism anticipating success only after the Grass has covered England, I feel she is merely making some sort of propitiatory gesture when she looks on the darkest side of the picture that way. As for myself I'm convinced the Grass will be stopped in a week or so.
F's Aunt" in Bleak House: "'When gorse is out of season, kissing is out of fashion," and looking straight at Archie, she added encouragingly "you see it is still blooming." It would be impossible to accuse Miss Cassandra of flirtatious intent, and yet at her glance and words Archie blushed a beautiful scarlet.
I am quite charmed with her so modest, and unselfish, and clever, and good, and and, in short, I call her the four F's, for she is fair, fragile, fervent, and funny." "What a catalogue!" exclaimed the youth, laughing; "you may well be charmed with her. But what do you mean by funny? Does she try to make people laugh?" "Oh dear, no!
The latter says he has written to you three times since he crossed the river. Tell "Chas." I think F's old regiment, the 9th, made the best appearance in review. "While on the ground, a man rode up to me and said he was just from Alexandria and had been requested to give me a box, which he handed me, but did not know who sent it. It contained a handsome pair of gilt spurs. Good-night.
Polly laid down her work and knitted her brows over the page. "Well ... it's better than the last one, Tilly," she said gently, averse to hurting her pupil's feelings. "But still not quite good enough. The f's, look, should be more like this." And taking a steel pen she made several long-tailed f's, in a tiny, pointed hand. Tilly yielded an ungrudging admiration. "'Ow well you do it, Poll!
'No man, he says, 'destitute of genius, could live for a day. But even if we all agree to be inspired together, we must still admit that there are degrees of inspiration; if Mr. F's Aunt was a woman of genius, what are we to say of Hamlet? And Blake, in the hierarchy of the inspired, stands very high indeed.
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