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If one of the two were about to be taken from us, and we had our choice which it should be, we should have to cry, Take Aeschylus, but leave us this! Ay, and take all other Greek literature into the bargain! But to return to the man born in 469. He was the son of humble people; his father was a stone-cutter in a small way of business; his mother a midwife.
The livery stables would not provide carriages for nothing for the cab-proprietors had wives and families to support, just as everybody else; at the stores cash had to be paid for goods, Oh! what realists they all were! The great day had come at last. It was evening. He must run for the midwife.
"Don't dare to do anything, don't dare to fetch a midwife! Bring a peasant woman, any old woman, I've eighty kopecks in my purse.... Peasant women have babies without midwives.... And if I die, so much the better...." "You shall have a midwife and an old woman too. But how am I to leave you alone, Marie!"
Socrates, son of Sophroniscus a sculptor and Phaenarete a midwife, was born at Athens in or about the year 469 B.C. His parents were probably poor, for Socrates is represented as having been too poor to pay the fees required for instruction by the Sophists of his time.
A midwife is the most necessary and honourable office, being indeed a helper of nature; which therefore makes it necessary for her to be well acquainted with all the operations of nature in the work of generation, and instruments with which she works. For she that knows not the operations of nature, nor with what tool she works, must needs be at a loss how to assist therein.
The midwife, together with all who were assisting at the birth, were also carried over, or so disposed of that it could never be learned what became of them afterward. The Queen prevailed with the King not only to consent to this, but to promise to go quickly after her.
"The midwife and her maid, you know, a little blonde. What a pest the girl is! She was yelling at her employer that she had got rid of a child for the fruit woman and that she was going to tell the police if she wasn't paid to keep quiet. So the midwife slapped her right in the face and then the little blonde jumped on her and started scratching her and pulling her hair, really by the roots.
"No, I don't like that," says Kiryakov, looking coldly and steadily at the midwife. "An arrangement beforehand is best. I don't want to take advantage of you and you don't want to take advantage of me. To avoid misunderstandings it is more sensible for us to make an arrangement beforehand." "I really don't know there is no fixed price."
She is the fancy's midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone On the fore-finger of an Alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies, Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep: Her waggon spokes made of long spinners' legs; The cover of the wings of grasshoppers; The traces of the smallest spider's web; The collars of the moonshine's watery beams; Her whip of cricket's bone; the lash of film; Her waggoner, a small grey coated gnat, Not half so big as a round little worm, Prickt from the lazy finger of a maid.
The door was half opened, and a man who was waiting outside brought in; this was the major-domo Baulieu. The midwife, pretending to afford the first necessary cares to the child, had taken it into a corner. Baulieu watched her movements, and springing upon her, pinioned her arms. The wretched woman dug her nails into the child's head.
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