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The Sheikh-ul-Islam fulfils one's idea of a gentle-bred, worthy-minded old patriarch; he examines the bicycle and listens to the account of my journey with much curiosity and interest, and bestows a flattering mead of praise on the wonderful ingenuity of the Ferenghis as exemplified in my wheel.
Several young men were to try for one of the medals, and were playing the same piece, one of the Strauss-Tausig Valse Caprices. Matthay listens to a complete performance of the work in hand, then turns back to the beginning and goes over it again for corrections and suggestions.
Don't talk so loud," whispered Don. "He listens." "I hope he's a-listening now," said Jem, loudly; "a lively smiling sort of a man. That's what he is, Mas' Don. Sort o' man always on the blue sneak." Don held up his hand. "Think they suspect anything, Jem?" he whispered. "Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't, Mas' Don.
In the sinister darkness, in the diminutive, drenching mist of rain, he speaks, and the man listens, and bows his head and answers 'yes! It is over. He has fallen finally.
"I wonder how you will endure the music of the immortals, that God listens to, if you get with the saved by and bye?" I said, impulsively. He shook his head doubtfully, but gave me at the same time a look of surprise. "I do not ask for anything better than Beethoven," he replied quietly. Some way I felt saddened.
As to their uncanniness there is no doubt. We do not, and never shall, fathom the depth of a Chinaman's brain. After mutually looking at the same object from widely-different points of view we express our ideas, talk them over and invite criticism, while he is silent. He listens to us and agrees, but keeps his own views to himself.
But better than all new apparatus and books of delight is the informal study of the world around us which has grown up by the side of organized teaching of natural science. The name of "nature study" is the least attractive point about it; the reality escapes from all conventionalities of instruction, and looks and listens and learns without the rules and boundaries which belong to real lessons.
"The friend, it comes to me, who drew you here, Goodwin!" She was silent, walking as one who sees visions and listens to voices unheard by others, Rador made a warning gesture; I crowded back my questions, glanced about me. We were passing over a smooth strand, hard packed as some beach of long-thrust-back ocean. It was like crushed garnets, each grain stained deep red, faintly sparkling.
And when some earth crumbled ahead I jerked back too quickly and scared the mule. I've got to tell somebody. I've got to. . . . And nobody listens " "Tell me the rest," said Kenny wanly. "I've been wonderin'." "You see, Mr. O'Neill," he gulped, his eyes dark with grief and horror, "the mule went back upon his haunches and drove the cart against a boulder.
Now he listens with every sense aiding him, and a strange sound comes to his ears. It is a sound like the rushing of water or the sighing of the wind through the skeleton branches of forest-trees. It grows louder, and, in its midst, he hears the stumbling of feet within the house. Something, he knows not what, makes him look about him fearfully, but he remains at his post. He dare not move.
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