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Back he drew the bars softly, and looked at the world that ever filled him with yearning and apprehension, at the draggled garden, at the sea, with its roadway strewn with golden sand all shimmering, at the mounts Ben Ime, Ardno, and Ben Artair, haughty in the night.

"That's the favorite method," replied Richling. "Well, I dunno 'ow 'tis, Mistoo Itchlin, but I fine the moze facil'ty in the poetic. 'Tis t'ue, in the poetic you got to look out concehning the 'ime. You got to keep the eye skin' faw it, in fact. But in the p'osaic, on the cont'a-ay, 'tis juz the opposite; you got to keep the eye skin' faw the sense. Yesseh.

Then he goes on: "'I taik mi pen in hand to inform u that Ime well, tho I've lost about 15 pounds, and hoap that u air injoyin' the same blessin." "Think o' the vulgarity o' a man writin' to a young lady 'bout his losin' flesh. If a man should write sich a thing to my sister I'd hunt him up and wollop the life outen him.

Whether by virtue of her relationship to the minister or by her own virtue, she had learned to read human nature with a degree of accuracy. "I looked at myself in the glass tonight," confessed Rebecca Mary's diary, "but it was on acount of the rufles. I think Ime not quite so homebly in rufles. I think Aunt Olivia was kind to rufle me. I should like to ware this night gown in the day time.

And good god have mercy on my soul when Ime dead but I got the thought right then if it was only all mine we worked all seven until we dropped that day and night and early in the morning and the storm was coming but we stayed.

Enter Lady & Magdalen. Lady. Sweet Mr. Bonvil. Tho. I cannot looke on her But Ime as violent as a high-wrought sea In my desires; a fury through my eyes At every glance of hers invades my heart. Lady. What ayles you, servant? are you not well? Bon. 'Tis his humour, Madam; he is accustomed, though it be in company, to hold a dialogue with his thoughts.

If I dont get the crimpers Ime going to give up looking in the glass. For I think Ime growing homeblyer right along. Theres something the matter with my nose. Rhodas doesent run up hill. I never thought about noses before. Aunt Olivias is a little quear too but I like it became its Aunt Olivias nose. I wish I knew if Aunt Olivia liked mine. I wish we were better akquainted.

Ime certaine of my selfe Ime impudent enough and can dissemble as well as ere my Father did to gett his wealth, but this country has tane my edge of quite; but I begin to sound the reason of it. Suc. What may it be imagind. Crac. Theirs nothing to excite desire but creame and eggs, and they are so common every clowne devoures them.

So she must have loved Tomas Jefferson. Shes sorry. Shes sorry. Shes sorry. And Ime so glad." Rebecca Mary caught up the little, white cat and cried her first tear of joy on its neck. Then she wrote again: "Now there are two morners instead of one. Two morners seams so mutch lovinger than only one. I know he must feal better.

Tis no dissembling, Madam; I have had A fall indeed, a dreadfull fall; I feele it. I thinke my horse saw the Divell in some hedge: Ere I had rid three furlongs, gave a start, Pitcht me of ons back like a barr and broke A flint with my shoulder, I thinke, which strooke fire too; There was something like it in my eyes, Ime punish'd. La. But is this serious? are you hurt indeed? Fra. Hurt?