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"You are a good child, but inexperienced in practical matters," and Professor Porter turned and walked slowly away toward the jungle, his hands clasped beneath his long coat tails and his eyes bent upon the ground. His daughter watched him with a pathetic smile upon her lips, and then turning to Mr. Philander, she whispered: "Please don't let him wander off again as he did yesterday.
We will leave Sylvia's ravings to be expressed by none but herself, and tell you that after about fourteen days' absence, Octavio received this letter from Philander. PHILANDER to OCTAVIO.
'You know, my lord, said Tomaso,'the state of things at your departure; and that all our glorious designs, for the liberty of all France were discovered, and betrayed by some of those little rascals, that great men are obliged to make use of in the greatest designs: upon whose confession you were proscribed, myself, this gentleman, and several others: it was our good fortunes to escape untaken, and yours to fall first in the messenger's hands, and carried to the Bastille, even from whence you had the luck to escape: but it was not so with Cesario. 'Heavens, cried Philander, 'the Prince, I hope is not taken. 'Not so neither, replied Tomaso, 'nor should you wonder you have received no news of him, in a long time, since forty thousand crowns being offered for his head, or to any thing that could discover him, it would have exposed him to have written to any body, he being beset on all sides with spies from the King; so that it was impossible to venture a letter, without very great hazard of his life.
As soon as she had dismissed the page, she hasted to her business of love, and again read over Philander's, letter, and finding still new occasion for fear, she had recourse to pen and paper for a relief of that heart which no other way could find; and after having wiped the tears from her eyes, she writ this following letter. SYLVIA to PHILANDER.
So Tarzan swung quickly to a lower limb in line with the approaching fugitives; and as Mr. Samuel T. Philander came panting and blowing beneath him, already too spent to struggle up to the safety of the limb, Tarzan reached down and, grasping him by the collar of his coat, yanked him to the limb by his side.
If we except the passages in “Philander,” “Narcissa,” and “Lucia,” there is hardly a trace of human sympathy, of self-forgetfulness in the joy or sorrow of a fellow-being, throughout this long poem, which professes to treat the various phases of man’s destiny. And even in the “Narcissa” Night, Young repels us by the low moral tone of his exaggerated lament.
"Do you mean to tell me you belong here?" questioned the now astonished master of Putnam Hall. "Of course, Captain Putnam. Didn't you send for me? Somebody said you did," continued William Philander. "Sir, I don't know you and never heard of you, so far as I can remember. You must be mixed up. "I mixed up? I guess you are mixed up," roared Tubbs, growing angry.
This fatal truth I learned from your fair eyes, ere they discovered to me your sex, and you may as soon change to what I then believed you, as I from adoring what I now find you: if all then, madam, that do but look on you become your slaves, and languish for you, love on, even without hope, and die, what must Philander pay you, who has the mighty blessing of your love, your vows, and all that renders the hours of amorous youth, sacred, glad, and triumphant?
"It's the candy, Aunt Mabel!" cried the young lady. "It it tastes so queer!" "Ha! Let me see that box?" exclaimed the aunt, who was a portly person. "I read in the newspaper only yesterday of some folks being poisoned by eating cheap candy." And she looked severely at poor Tubbs. "This is er not cheap candy, my dear Mrs. Garlett," spluttered William Philander.
And then one older youth, who was given to writing songs, began to sing softly: "Rub-a-dub-dub! One man in a tub, And who do you think it is, It's William Philander, Who's got up his dander, And isn't he mad! Gee whizz!"
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