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One who has lived and worked in France has silhouette memories of funeral processions standing out in sombre blackness against a lurid nation.
I little knew how you'd feathered your nest while I was on the other side of the water. I little thought how you would turn up at last, when I least expected to see you. You might have knocked me down with a feather yesterday, when that fine funeral came out of the park gates, and I saw your face at the window of one of the coaches.
"Why, we would not seem to fail in respect to our dear departed brother, and would leave a clear fortnight between his funeral and our wedding; so an' it please you we will set the marriage for Thursday of next week." "And at what hour?" "At even when all may rest from their labor it seemeth best. After supper we will be ready." "Wilt come to me or I to thee?"
Her reverie alone was that little travelling bird, with rapid flight and noiseless wings, which continually went on pilgrimage to the Grotto. In her dreams, indeed, she must have continually lived at Lourdes, though in the flesh she had not even gone there for either her father's or her mother's funeral.
"D'you remember him at Father's funeral? without his hat, and his head in the clouds. Fine-lookin' chap, old Tod pity he's such a child of Nature." Felix said quietly: "If you'd offered him a partnership, Stanley it would have been the making of him." "Tod in the plough works? My hat!" Felix smiled. At sight of that smile, Stanley grew red, and John refilled his pipe.
"You were the cause of what happened at Barbazon's last night," he smiled evilly "you are egging on the roughs to break up the Orange funeral to-day; and there is all the rest you know so well." "What is the rest I know so well?" He looked closely at her, his long, mongrel eyes half-closing with covert scrutiny. "Whatever it is, it is all bad and it is all yours." "Not all," he retorted coolly.
From the funeral panoply of a tomb like that of Iuaa and Tuaa we can obtain some idea of the pomp and state of Amenhetep III. But the remains of his Theban palace, which have been discovered and excavated by Mr. C. Tytus and Mr. P. E. Newberry, do not bear out this idea of magnificence.
"I have wanted to hear Ruth laugh. And we all need to laugh. Why, we are becoming a trio of old fogies!" "Speak for yourself, Master Tom," pouted his sister. "I do. And for you. And certainly Ruth is about as cheerful as a funeral mute. What we all need is some fun." "Oh, Tom, I don't feel at all like 'funning," sighed Ruth.
Richard and I lived the Eastern life thoroughly, and we loved it. We went to every kind of ceremony, whether it was a circumcision, or a wedding, or a funeral, or a dervish dance, or anything that was going on; and we mixed with all classes, and religions, and races, and tongues. I remember my first invitation was to a grand fete to celebrate the circumcision of a youth about ten years of age.
She sat with the girls during tea, drinking a cup for the sake of form, and giving them disconnected items of information about the funeral, which at their own passionate request they had been excused from attending. The talk was carried on in low tones, so that the rattle of a spoon in a saucer sounded loud and distinct.
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