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The opening of the poll: My first essay at public oratory: The general feelings of men in favour of virtue, though contradicted by their practice: The hateful spectacle of a corrupt election, and more cause of complaint against the Baronet: A false accusation resented Passion dispels passion, and care combats care.
There may find place here also the consideration that the voting of women would be an unsettling element in the government of the State, forasmuch as they would, by reason of a general lack of interest in public affairs, only very; seldom come to the poll: would, in fact, come to the poll in full strength only when some special appeal had come home to their emotions.
Nobody can doubt of my satisfaction, when I returned to my little castle, and reposed myself in my hammock. After my journey I rested myself a week, which time I employed in, making a cage for my pretty Poll. I now began to consider the poor kid I had left in the bower, and I immediately went to fetch it home.
The last hour of the poll was a period of unremitting labour for both parties; it was generally estimated that not more than a dozen votes separated the candidates, and every effort was made to bring up obstinately wavering electors. It was with a feeling of relaxation and relief that every one heard the clocks strike the hour for the close of the poll.
There were no distinct words; but the sentences were so similar in length, and the tone so exactly that of the clergyman, that many persons recognized it without being told who the parrot wished to imitate." "I think Polly is the very best parrot I ever knew," exclaimed Minnie. "I wish Mrs. G. would bring her here. I wonder what Poll would say to her." "Mrs.
So she said again, 'Shibli Bagarag. And the bird answered, imitating its best, 'Shibberacavarack. Noorna was wroth with it, crying, 'Oh naughty bird! is the name of my beloved hateful to thee? And she chid Koorookh angrily, he with a heavy eye sulking, and keeping the sullen feathers close upon his poll.
Barney Bill cocked his white poll across the table with the perkiness of a quaint bird Paul saw that the years had brought a striation of tiny red filaments to his weather-beaten face and fixed her with his little glittering eyes. "Bill what? You think I'm 'urting his feelings?" He jerked a thumb towards his host. "I ain't.
Finally Donaldson burst out, ever recurring to the one subject like a man anxious to defend himself, "Barstow, I tell you that merely to cling to existence is not an act in itself either righteous or courageous. If we owe obligations to individuals we should pay them to the last cent. If we owe obligations to society, we should pay those, too, just as we pay our poll tax.
"Pretty Poll! Give me a cracker! Let me out and give me a cracker!" cried the green bird. "Here's one!" said Laddie, holding out a bit of cracker which he had left from a package his mother had bought for him on the train. "Look out! He might bite you!" said Laddie's father. "Bill said his bird was gentle, but, still, maybe the little boy had better be careful," said Mr. Mead.
She then gave her parents their good-night kiss, and snatching Tiney in her arms, went gayly from the room. In summer, Poll lived mostly out of doors, hung in a cage at the top of the piazza. Here she seemed very much amused at the various operations she witnessed.
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