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Notwithstanding, concerning the frame of this world, and the whole of nature, which the senses of the flesh can reach to, as I more and more considered and compared things, I judged the tenets of most of the philosophers to have been much more probable.
Notwithstanding his familiarity with misery in all its shapes, he was one of the most cheerful of beings; and, but for his cheerfulness he could never, with so delicate a frame, have got through so vast an amount of self-imposed work. He dreaded nothing so much as inactivity. Though fragile, he was bold and indefatigable; and his moral courage was of the first order.
In speaking a line audible to the audience but supposed to be unheard by the other characters on the stage, an actor was forced by the very nature of the speech to violate the illusion of the stage picture by stepping out of the frame, as it were, in order to take the audience into his confidence.
The whole frame of the sufferer was convulsed, and his limbs contracted with torture, so that, by raising his thigh, he involuntarily presented his side to the bird while the other limb was visibly quivering in its whole length, with agony his teeth were clenched, his lips parted, and his brows wrinkled.
She sang songs in the Chippewayan tongue during the morning; her deep black eye became brighter; her step was light and quick, and her whole frame seemed to move to silent music, so regular, graceful and quick were her motions.
Such an hour or quarter of an hour to Nettie was worth a great deal. Her weary little frame seemed to rest in it, and her mind rested too. For those days were full not only of the goodness of God, but of the promise of his goodness. Nettie read it, and thanked him. Yet things in the household were no better. One evening Nettie and her mother were sitting alone together.
A queerly assorted trio we were: "Doc" Lynch, who had graduated from the medical school to Bohemia, following a natural bent, I suppose; Crafts, a Maine boy of angular frame and prodigious self-confidence; and myself. Lynch I have lost sight of long ago. Crafts, I am told, is rich and prosperous, the owner of a Western newspaper. That was bound to happen to him.
Who has not experienced that frame of mind; what thrifty wife has not seen and lamented her husband in that condition; when, with rather a heightened colour and a deuce-may-care smile on his face, he comes home and announces that he has asked twenty people to dinner next Saturday? He doesn't know whom exactly; and he does know the dining-room will only hold sixteen. Never mind!
"I imagine you're not as cautious as you think; but we won't talk. It's hard to hold on and I haven't much breath." Kit moved nearer and, seizing the edge of the frame, put his arm round her waist. She did not seem to resent this, and for a time they sped down hill with their feet plowing through the snow. Kit did not care how long the swift rush lasted, but by and by he began to get anxious.
It is a very old and complicated machine, and near it in a frame I found the following description: "It is a the work of Jacob Lovelace, of Exeter, ornamented with Oriental figures and finely executed paintings, guilted by fretworks." This unrivaled piece of mechanism was perfectly cleaned and repaired by W. Frost, of Exeter, a self-taught artist.
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