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Outside Headquarters the first three men to put their heads over were killed by Germans, who had crept close along the sunken road which leads from Favet to Selency Château. The rifles and machine guns of the garrison opened up and gained superiority.
She chose the fruit with care, only taking the ripe ones, and gathering them in her apron. A voice called from the road: "Hey, Madame Chicot!" She turned round. It was a neighbor, Osime Favet, the mayor, on his way to fertilize his fields, seated on the manure-wagon, with his feet hanging over the side. She turned round and answered: "What can I do for you, Maitre Osime?" "And how is the father?"
But it took all the muscle of which the robber was master to open the ponderous door; and when it did move out, snowing the dark cavity through the yawning mouth, it gave no squeak; for the operator had deftly placed a few drops of oil within the hinges. 'Fortuna favet trepidis, he said, never having heard of an accusative case.
She chose the fruit with care, only taking the ripe ones, and gathering them in her apron. A voice called from the road: "Hey, Madame Chicot!" She turned round. It was a neighbor, Osime Favet, the mayor, on his way to fertilize his fields, seated on the manure-wagon, with his feet hanging over the side. She turned round and answered: "What can I do for you, Maitre Osime?" "And how is the father?"
The wound was now healing fast, and in three weeks from the time of the accident nothing but a scar remained: so that I again sallied forth sound and joyful, and said to myself: I, pedes quo te rapiunt et aurae Dum favet sol, et locus, i secundo Omine, et conto latebras, ut olim, Rumpe ferarum. Now this contus was a tough, light pole eight feet long, on the end of which was fixed an old bayonet.
My Amours with Gallimena Journey to Soyento Medini Goudar Miss Chudleigh The Marquis Petina Gaetano Madame Cornelis's Son An Anecdote of Sara Goudar The Florentines Mocked by the King My Journey to Salerno, Return to Naples, and Arrival at Rome The Prince of Francavilla was a rich Epicurean, whose motto was 'Fovet et favet'.
I could never die for laughing," bawled out the Dominie, feeling for his pannikin; but this was his last effort. He stared round him. "Verily, verily, we are in a whirlpool how everything turneth round and round! Who cares? Am I not an ancient mariner `Qui videt mare turgidum et infames scopulos. Friend Dux, listen to me favet linguis."
The front line, now about to be held between Favet and Gricourt, was almost in its old position. The outpost line of nine months ago had crystallised into the usual trench system.
My Amours with Gallimena Journey to Soyento Medini Goudar Miss Chudleigh The Marquis Petina Gaetano Madame Cornelis's Son An Anecdote of Sara Goudar The Florentines Mocked by the King My Journey to Salerno, Return to Naples, and Arrival at Rome The Prince of Francavilla was a rich Epicurean, whose motto was 'Fovet et favet'.
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