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For you are not a German, are you, nor a Tartar?" "No. It is merely that I can see the faults in our Russian folk." "The word 'faults' is, I consider, an insult," began the ex-soldier as he puffed at his pipe. "Besides, you don't speak consistently. Only this moment I observed a change in your terms." "To what?" "To the term 'Russians." "What should you prefer?"

The valley folk were braver; but the upland agriculturists, all save himself, went in fear.

Then Herewald would have us come in for some cheer after the long day, but we were tired and stained, and I must be back at the guardroom, and so he bade his folk bring somewhat out here to us.

"Now you must excuse me, good folk. I am bound in duty to do honor to all this company splendor, by washing my hands and putting on my Sunday-go-to-meeting coat." "Effie, you may fetch the coffee," said her mother. The supper that followed was a merry meal Dr. Staunton told his best stories they were capped by his wife's.

It was Red-Eye, swaggering down the centre of the run-way and scowling fiercely with his inflamed eyes. I noticed that all the youngsters shrank away from him as we had done, while the grown-ups regarded him with wary eyes when he drew near, and stepped aside to give him the centre of the path. As twilight came on, the open space was deserted. The Folk were seeking the safety of the caves.

And now most like I shall be blamed for letting it be blew down, and shall have to live in half a room in the town and pay two or three shillin's a week, besides walkin' three miles to and from my work every day. A gentleman like Sir John don't hardly know what the value of a penny is to us laborin' folk, nor how cruel hard his estate rules and the like comes on us."

"I suppose you have heard why we go thither," he went on quickly. "If not, you will, and you may as well have it from myself." He glanced sidewise at me, and I bowed. I supposed I should hear some words of policy or other. "They that is, our wise folk and my good mother have been saying that I ought to marry.

"Ay, natives pr'aps," growled Jarring, "an' cannibals who are fond of eatin' white folk specially women!" "Shut up your black muzzle, or I'll heave ye overboard!" said Mitford, fiercely, for like many easy-going, quiet men, he was unusually savage when fairly roused.

"About the many strange things that are sent through the post, Grannie." "Ay, ay, likely enough," returned the old creature, shaking her head and administering an unintentional cuff to the poor cat; "folk write a heap o' lees noo-a-days, nae doot."

In 1894 Octave Mirbeau wrote a moving article for the Journal about the man who had never spoken ill of any one, who had never turned from his door a hungry person. The result was a sale organised at the Hôtel Drouot, to which prominent artists and literary folk contributed works.