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As it was somewhat steep, and but dimly lighted, he began cautiously to descend, putting his left hand on the banister, and poking down his long stick to assist him in making sure of the successive steps; and thus he became a living illustration of the accuracy of Scripture, where it describes the aged as being "afraid of that which is high," a truth that is often found to have a sadder purport than its external one.
I touched the manuscript with my hand questioningly. "Did this fall at the back there by accident," I asked, "or did you hide it?" "I did," he answered. "It was no tale for a young thing to read. I have hidden many from you. You were always poking about in corners, Ysobel." Then I sat and thought over past memories for a while and the shadows in the room deepened.
"A circular, if you please," said Bog, in a quivering voice, poking the folded paper at her. "A succular, is it? Miss Peelbody told me not to take any succulars for her. So 'way wid ye." Bridget put her hand on the door, and was about to swing it to. "It isn't for Miss Pillbody at all," said Bog, fearful lest the strange man should see it refused, "but for your own pretty self."
Don't you think it's nice of them?" she said, gently removing her hand from his. His eyes were shining with pleasure. "I do. I envy them enormously. One only needs to be sufficiently naive," he said. "One does, doesn't one!" cooed Julia. "I say, do you hear the bells?" said Robert, poking his head into the room. "No, dear! Do you?" replied Julia. "Bells! Hear the bells!
She at once cast herself flat on the floor to help in the search, and in this position not only spied the thimble under the fender, but by means of the spade succeeded to her great delight in poking it out.
The saloon, on the threshold of which we stood, contained of living creatures only one man, somewhat passed the middle of life, who seemed to be in the act of making his toilette; an old woman busily engaged with her needle, three wenches, who moved hither and thither, now poking about the stove, now arranging dirty linen, apparently for the wash-tub, and one or two children.
"If here isn't Mr Snell coming in alonger Pa," said Agnetta, craning her neck to see out of the window. "He's sure to stay to tea." She immediately drew her chair up to the table and helped herself largely to jam. "And of all evenings in the week I wish he hadn't chosen this," said Mrs Greenways. "Poking and meddling in other folks' concerns.
"I say, Dorothy," he began, awkwardly; "I was rather a beast, wasn't I?" "Of course," she returned, in a small, unnatural voice, still poking through the ruins. "I told you so, didn't I?" "I didn't believe you at the time," Harlan went on, eager to make amends, "but I do now." "That's good." Mrs. Carr's tone was not at all reassuring.
For a considerable time Shafto strolled about with his hands in his pockets, so far seeing nothing to tempt him. Meanwhile his companion eagerly examined books and bargained over a tattered old volume. Shafto noted with surprise the number of well-dressed visitors poking among the stalls, in search of treasure trove.
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