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With another derisive grunt, Red Hoss rose from where he had been resting, angled to the opposite side of the street and disappeared within the stable. For perhaps ninety seconds after he was gone the remaining two sat in an attitude of silent waiting.
Sailing ninety leagues farther, you see the noted port of Jodda, where the pilgrims that go to Mecca and Medina unlade those rich presents which the zeal of different princes is every day accumulating at the tomb of Mahomet.
"Stock! What do you mean?" "Kurtz and I are partners in one end of this business." "I'll be damned!" breathed Mr. Wharton. Then he inquired, curiously, "Do you like this work?" "It's not what I prefer, still there is a margin of profit." "Huh! I should think so, at ninety dollars a suit. Well, this town is full of fools." Bob agreed. "But we dress 'em better than they do in Pittsburg."
After he learned to talk with us, he interested us very much with accounts of his own country, and with the letters he read us from his father, an old man of ninety, who had spent his life in charge of convicts in Siberia. He wrote his father that he was homesick; and the old man replied: "You homesick work! work by and by make you strong!" His letters were directed only: "Son mine George Olaf."
We must now go on board, and our first cause of surprise will be the deception relative to the tonnage of the schooner, when viewed from a distance. Instead of a small vessel of about ninety tons, we discover that she is upwards of two hundred; that her breadth of beam is enormous; and that those spars, which appeared so light and elegant, are of unexpected dimensions.
We can study out all about the laws that govern it, and what the effect of those laws is upon it. But it is very different with the sun. It is about ninety millions of miles away from us. This is too far off for us to know much about it. And yet, we know enough about the sun to get from it a good illustration of God's rule about giving and getting. The sun, like the ocean, is a great giver.
A. is offended by another prizefighter, C., and he offers B. the sum of five hundred pounds if he will give C. a beating in public. B. goes to C., and says, "I will give you ten pounds if you will let me thrash you, and I won't hurt you much." C. gladly consents, so B. pockets four hundred and ninety pounds for himself, and the noble patron's revenge is satisfied.
She is one of my few dear and valued friends who are still alive. While in Paris, I lost my dear mother. She died at the age of ninety, attended by my brother Henry. She was still a fine old lady, with few grey hairs. The fear of death was almost hereditary in the Charters family, and my mother possessed it in no small degree; yet when it came, she was perfectly composed and prepared for it.
I just naturally left that upper berth, soared like a bird across the aisle, went through the glass of the window on the opposite side clean head-first, turned over and over through the ninety feet of fall more times than I like to remember, and by some sort of miracle was mostly flat-out in the air when I bull's-eyed that pool of water. It was only eighteen inches deep.
While this canvas was being unpacked in Washington last winter, Mr. Elliott was exhibiting in Boston his portrait of his mother-in-law, Mrs. Julia Ward Howe. It was begun and nearly finished at Newport four or five years ago; but Mr. Elliott has not cared to complete it, for during the interval the "Grand Old Lady" has considerably changed in appearance. She is now more than ninety years old.
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