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In Ireland we know it will be welcomed; amongst a people by whom chivalry and patriotism are honoured, a story so touching and so enobling will not be despised; and the race which guards with reverence and devotion the memories of Tone, and Emmett, and the Shearses, will not soon surrender to oblivion the memory of the three true-hearted patriots, who, heedless of the scowling mob, unawed by the hangman's grasp, died bravely that Saturday morning at Manchester, for the good old cause of Ireland.
This dreadful accusation comes upon her like a new torment at his lifeless hand. And when she recalls how she was secretly at his door that night, and how she may be represented to have sent her favourite girl away so soon before merely to release herself from observation, she shudders as if the hangman's hands were at her neck.
Anything to break the monotony." "Didn't you get enough of the hangman's knot and the sandbag? Want more, eh? Well, if I wasn't so darned comfortable I'd come over there and give it to you. Now don't rile me!" "I deserve to be kicked for being such a blithering fool as to get into this mess. Come on and kick me." "You wanted to get a poke at the old man's eye, did ye?
It was an accident, none the less, which in its ultimate results was to put several of the necks craned to see it in peril of the hangman's noose. That divinely appointed monarch King James the Sixth of Scotland and First of England had an eye for manly beauty.
Yon was the God's truth and nothing else he told Mistress Helen; the hangman's rope is no decent to be coiled about a man's folk. It's just the cleverness of Helen Stockdale I will be made up with the simple sending of a screed of news; what beats me is why she did it." "And that's easy to me," says Margaret. "It would just be a gift to Belle, Hamish." "To Belle," says I.
We must indeed realize in life the noble last words of Spies, spoken as he stood on the gallows with the hangman's noose around his neck: "There will come a time when our silence will be more powerful than the voices you are strangling today." Labor's Martyrs By Vito Marcantonio President, International Labor Defense "These are my ideas. They constitute a part of myself.
This cynical gipsy phlegm exactly suited Manasseh's mood, and he exerted himself to cheer the poor fellow up, promising to secure his release as soon as he himself should gain an audience with Diurbanu. "But you won't get out of here yourself in a hurry," returned the gipsy. "Once in Diurbanu's hands, you might as well be in the hangman's.
There is the "Boy Bishop," his marble effigy protected from vandalism by an iron cage. Since this performance has been taken out of the list of miracles, it is not so likely to be repeated by fanatics. I confess to a strong suspicion that this is one of the ambulatory or movable stories, like the "hangman's stone" legend, which I have found in so many different parts of England.
Then there was the curious spectacle of Rouletabille standing on the hangman's stool, the fatal rope hanging above his head, his legs crossed, his elbow on his knees in that eternal attitude which Art has always given to human thought, his fists under his jaws, his eyes fixed all around him, all those young men intent on his silence, not moving a muscle, turned into statues themselves that they might not disturb the statue which thought and thought.
You remember the monument in Devizes market to the woman struck dead with a lie in her mouth. I never saw that, but it is in the books. Where is this monument? What is that? I said. That, answered the coachman, is the hangman's pillar. Then he told me how a man went out one night, many years ago, to steal sheep.
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