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"He has been doing it all his life," said Priscilla. "He can't do it up in London. When I think of myself, Miss Stanbury, I am so ashamed. There is nothing that I can do. I couldn't write an article for a newspaper." "I think I could. But I fear no one would read it." "They read his," said Nora, "or else he wouldn't be paid for writing them."

"The Rights of Man" sold from the very start, and in a year fifty thousand copies had been called for. Unlike his other books, this one was bringing Paine a financial return. Newspaper controversies followed, and Burke, the radical, found himself unable to go the lengths to which Paine was logically trying to force him.

The condition of the roads. How long a stretch they had been able to do without a halt. How many hours a day he himself had stuck at the wheel. When he had finished the newspaper man bowed and walked abruptly away. The newspaper man's thoughts form a conclusion. "It's true, then," he thought, "the world's becoming as stupid as it looks.

The great writer had recently died in a foreign land in dire poverty, Martin remembered, which was not to be wondered at, considering the magnificent pay authors receive. Well, he had taken the bait, the newspaper lies about writers and their pay, and he had wasted two years over it. But he would disgorge the bait now. Not another line would he ever write.

The Count was sitting in his morning gown beside a table, on which stood a small silver tray, with his coffee-cup upon it. His valet was dressing his hair. Two of his sons were in the room; one playing with his dogs in a recess of the window, and the other reading the newspaper. "Come closer," said the Count, in answer to Randolphe's bow. "Nearer come close up to the table."

"Did you say this big Air Derby around the world takes place this coming summer, Bob?" "So dad told me at the breakfast table this morning, Paul. The plans have just been completed. He said full details would be in to-day's papers." "And the afternoon edition is out now, for there's a newsie just ahead of us who is calling out the Daily Independent. That's your father's newspaper, too."

Things had gone on now for some three years, and I'd about lived in my books, I'd tried to teach Faith some, but she wouldn't go any farther than newspaper stories, when one day Dan took her and me to sail, and we were to have had a clam-chowder on the Point, if the squall hadn't come. As it was, we'd got to put up with chicken-broth, and it couldn't have been better, considering who made it.

J. O. Tarling, late of the Shanghai Detective Service, read the short account in the evening newspaper, and was unusually thoughtful. Lyne murdered! It was an extraordinary coincidence that he had been brought into touch with this young man only a few days before.

After making due allowance for mere racial sympathy, which in the present contest has had even in the neutral United States so large a share in determining individual sympathies, the claim of an English newspaper is approximately correct, that the universal action of the colonies, where volunteering far exceeded the numbers first sent, "indicates what is the opinion of bodies of free men, widely separated by social and geographical conditions, concerning the justice and necessity of the quarrel in which we are now engaged."

But while that Press has its evil eye in every house, and its black hand in every appointment in the state, from a president to a postman; while, with ribald slander for its only stock in trade, it is the standard literature of an enormous class, who must find their reading in a newspaper, or they will not read at all; so long must its odium be upon the country's head, and so long must the evil it works, be plainly visible in the Republic."