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"Well, well," cries Miss Matthews, "to be sure she did; but pray go on with your story." "The old woman," continued he, "after having equipped us as well as she could, and placed our wet cloaths before the fire, began to grow inquisitive; and, after some ejaculations, she cried 'O, my dear young madam! my mind misgives me hugeously; and pray who is this fine young gentleman? Oh!
Even the reserved Matthews, who was too old for cricket, looked up a moment from his putting, and said, "Well played, Dick!" The fourth occupant of the room was busy at his desk, as if to give the lie to the thoughtless accusation that the Civil Service cultivates the body at the expense of the mind.
"I beg, good woman," said Miss Matthews, "you would talk on some other subject, and give yourself no concern about my affairs." "You see, ladies," cried Murphy, "the gentle-woman doth not care to talk on this matter before company; so pray do not press her." "Nay, I value the lady's acquaintance no more than she values mine," cries the first woman who spoke.
In other words, what he has to say may be scientifically valuable, but he fails to convey it to any but his fellow-specialists. Mr. Brander Matthews points out that the great students are those who have combined the Teutonic thoroughness with the French comprehensiveness and lucidity. Gibbon and Mommsen are the great examples to which he points.
When his captain exhorted him to bear down upon the enemy, he very coolly replied, that he would avoid the error of admiral Matthews, who, in his engagement with the French and Spanish squadrons off Toulon, during the preceding war, had broke the line by his own precipitation, and exposed himself singly to a fire which he could not sustain. Mr.
"Easy there!" screamed Matthews from his perch forwards, not to be outdone; while the boatswain was singing out for a "fender" to guard the ship's bows from scrunching against the dock wall, and Tom Jerrold overseeing the men at the bollard on the wharf calling out to them to "belay!" as her head swung a bit.
"Well, madam, you now see me married to Amelia; in which situation you will, perhaps, think my happiness incapable of addition. Perhaps it was so; and yet I can with truth say that the love which I then bore Amelia was not comparable to what I bear her now." "Happy Amelia!" cried Miss Matthews.
Let the playwright take to heart an anecdote told by Professor Matthews in his Inquiries and Opinions an anecdote of a New England farmer, who, being asked who was the architect of his house, replied: "Oh, I built that house myself; but there's a man coming down from Boston next week to put on the architecture." Better no style at all than style thus plastered on.
Charity was still watching suspiciously. At the minister's words she started and a touch of color came into her pale cheeks, while at Miss Farwell's answer the look of suspicion in her eyes deepened. What could it mean? Dan's embarrassment was unmistakable. Before he could find words to reply, the sick woman exclaimed, "Why, how strange! Do tell us about it, Brother Matthews.
The parched-earth, burnt-oil smell gave place to the minty odor of hay in wind rows, with the cool water tang of the big irrigation ditch flowing liquid gold in the yellow August light. One evening, Matthews looked back to the looming heat waving and writhing above the orange sands beneath a sky of lilac and topaz round a sunset flowing from a dull red ball of fire.
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