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In consequence of the bombardment daily expected from the Montretout batteries people have been hurriedly leaving Paris in great numbers. Fort Vanves took fire last night, and had to be evacuated. It was found impossible to extinguish the fire. It is still burning. The explosion at Issy arose from a torpedo, not a powder magazine. The Fort is evacuated.
His books were at my disposal and he had a very extensive library. Upon the days when we walked to Issy he went with me to the heights of La Solitude, and there he taught me Syriac. We talked together over the Syriac New Testament of Guthier. M. Le Hir determined my career. I was by instinct a philologist, and I found in him the man best fitted to develop this aptitude.
Bill Opus and Jeremiah Fugue have no secrets from him none whatever and in conversation he creates the impression that old Issy Sonata was his first cousin. He can tell you offhand which one of the Shuberts Lee or Jake wrote that Serenade. He speaks of Mozart and Beethoven in such a way a stranger would probably get the idea that Mote and Bate used to work for his folks.
Marrapit had offered 100 pounds reward for the recovery of his pet; and the Daily, under the heading "Catchy Clues," proceeded to tell its readers all over the country how best they might win this sum. All out of Mr. Issy Jago's tiny little paragraph. Daily readers revelled in it. Upon three of their number it had a particular effect. Bill Wyvern had not been at the Daily office that night.
David Brunger drank from the carafe of water on the mantelpiece to clear his tortured throat. In his capacity of the great detective and confidential inquiry agent himself, he then stepped to the telephone and, after exhibiting a power of invention relative to startling crimes in hand that won even the admiration of Mr. Issy Jago, announced that he would be with Mr. Marrapit at three o'clock.
Some one rushed down the walk. And then a girl's voice cried in alarm: "What is it? Who is it? What IS the matter?" And from the bundle of legs and arms on the ground two voices exclaimed: "GERTIE!" "But where IS your father?" asked Sam. Issy asked nothing. He merely sat still and listened. "Why, he's at Trumet. At least I suppose he is. Mrs.
We are under the impression that the firing from this redoubt, from Valérien, Issy, and the gunboat Farcy, which took place on Thursday morning, between 2 a.m. and 8 a.m., has destroyed the batteries and earthworks which the Prussians were erecting on the heights of St. Cloud and Meudon-Clamart. You, however, are better informed respecting the damage which was done than we are.
The next day but one after Christmas dawned deliciously in Porthlooe, bright with virginal sunshine, and made tender by the breath of the Gulf Stream. Uncle Issy, passing up the road at nine o'clock, halted by the Cherokee to pass a word with its proprietor, who presented the very antipodes of a bird's-eye view, as he knocked about the crumbling clods with his visgy at the top of the slope.
January 16th. If I am to believe the Paris papers, the Fort of Issy is gradually extinguishing the guns of the Prussian batteries which bear on it. If I am to believe my eyes, the Fort of Issy is not replying at all to these said guns; and if I am to believe competent military authorities, in about eighteen days from now at the latest the Fort of Issy will cease to be a fort.
The guns of Vanves joined in the combat, their fire being directed towards the plateau of Chatillon, which was held by the troops. Round Issy a force of the National Guard was assembled, but the main body was in the deep valley between the forts and Meudon, and on the slopes nearly up to the chateau; the rattle of musketry here was continuous, a light smoke drifting up through the trees.
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