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Flesh and blood suffering goes without a groan of sympathy from the on-lookers, while novel characters wade to the neck in compassion. I’ve pondered on that a whole lot, seem’ a heap of indifference to every-day calamity, and the way I assay it is like this: print folks has terrible fanciful layouts given to their griefs and worriments by the authors of their being.

There was a call for him. The train was already moving. He jumped into it, and was gone. The station and hotel at Sicamous Junction, overlooking the lovely Mara lake, were full of people busy officials of different kinds, or excited on-lookers when Anderson reached them.

The on-lookers, being gentlemen and fully aware that Sir Algernon deserved all he was getting, stood by, not offering to interfere, perhaps in their hearts rather sympathizing with the stranger whose righteous indignation had about it a manliness that appealed to them. Presently Sir Algernon ceased to kick, his struggles grew fainter.

The voices of the musicians, who have for the latter part of the time been giving forth a drawling chorus, cease, but the din of the tambourines continues, while the performer dances wildly, till he stops before the lad on the ground, and takes from his mouth first one date and then another, which the lad is told to eat, and does so, the on-lookers fully convinced that they were transformed from the rag.

Princeman smiled with calm superiority. He wound himself up. Spat! The ball had cut the plate and was in Sam's hands, while the batsman stood looking earnestly at the path over which it had come. "Strike two!" called Blackstone. Sam jerked the ball back with an underwrist toss of great perfection. Princeman drew himself up with smiling ease and posed a moment for the edification of the on-lookers.

As good luck would have it, we were almost in front of a large, comfortable, old-fashioned house where they took summer boarders; as the season was drawing to a close, there was plenty of room and they were glad to take us in. The machine was pushed into a shed, everybody assisting with the readiness ever characteristic of sympathetic on-lookers.

For one instant objects lost all natural proportion, and to the expectant on-lookers the largest thing in the room was the big, upraised, white fist of Frowenfeld. But in the next how was this? Could it be that that fist had not descended?

Every man, woman, and child looked curiously upon him. "He's the Captain over again!" said those of the on-lookers who remembered his father. "He's the Captain's self, to the life!" He stood there in the sunlight looking up at the Earl, as Thomas helped that nobleman out, with the most affectionate interest that could be imagined.

To "make his act better," Hanlon now pretended to be frightened, cowardly, and accompanied by the jeers of the civilian on-lookers who had quickly congregated to see what all the rumpus was about, he fled down the city street away from the Reservation. At first opportunity, after he had outdistanced his pursuers, Hanlon ducked into an alley.

And this for thy shamans and thy shamans' devils! and this! and this!" And snapping his fingers to right and left, Sime strode through the on-lookers, who made over-zealous and fearsome way for him. "A good fisher and strong hunter, but an evil man," said one. "Yet does he flourish," speculated another. "Wherefore be thou evil and flourish," Sime retorted over his shoulder.