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Capm want to ask you one thing: Muss I be carried to the skies on flow'ry bedge of ease while Garnet fighss to win the prise 'n' sails through bloody seas? Sing that, Capm! I'll line it! You sing it!" Shotwell sang; his companion wept. So they closed their sad festivities; not going to bed, but sleeping on their arms, like the stern heroes they were.
With the speed of lightning, my mind ran over every passage of our acquaintance our first meeting our solitary walks our daily, hourly associations our travelling intimacy the adventure at Chantraine; There was, it is true, nothing in all this which could establish the fact of wooing, but every thing which should convince an old offender like myself that the young lady was "en prise," and that I myself despite my really strong attachment elsewhere was not entirely scathless.
We recognized the bananas and occasionally a pineapple, but the other fruits were new to us lanzones in white, fuzzy clusters like giant grapes; the chico, a little brown fruit that tastes like baked apple flavored with caramel; and the atis, which most natives prise as a delicacy, but which few Americans ever learn to like.
Under the new arrangement of small private properties, the settlers began "to prise corne as more pretious than silver, and those that had some to spare begane to trade one with another for small things, by the quart, pottle, and peck, etc., for money they had none."
Pewt was to give the prises. the prise for swiming fast was a bag of erly apples from Pewts garden. the prise for swiming under water was a gewsharp and the prise for the best diver was a cain fishing pole and the prise for floteing was a arrow rifle. we all give 5 cents eech to buy the cain pole. the gewsharp was one whitch Pewt had and the arrow rifle Pewt had made.
Raising my candle and shading my eyes I espied something small and bright protruding beneath it, and sprang up, thinking they were about to prise it in. To my surprise, however, I could discover, on taking the candle to the threshold, nothing more threatening than a couple of gold livres, which had been thrust through the crevice between the door and the floor. My astonishment may be conceived.
One more, I must mention, her answer to Guido's insistent, "Cet homme t'a-t-il prise?"... "J'ai dit la vérité.... Il ne m'a pas touchée," sung with dignity, with force, with womanliness, and yet with growing impatience and a touch of sadness. Let me quote Pitts Sanborn: "It is easy to be flippant about Miss Garden's singing.
The children are always at school, and the rest of the world is at work, so, unless the music attracts someone, there are few spectators. On the day of the prise d'armes three old peasants happened to be in a field on the other side of the route nationale, which skirts the big plain on the plateau. They heard the music, dropped their work and ran across the road to gape.
You would inspire a caterpillar. I will go to the professor I was going anyhow, but now I shall go aggressively. I will prise a father's blessing out of him, if I have to do it with a crowbar." "That's the way to talk, old horse. Don't beat about the bush. Tell him exactly what you want and stand no nonsense. If you don't see what you want in the window, ask for it.
Like Berlioz in his 'Prise de Troie' he has plainly gone to Gluck for his inspiration, and in its sobriety and breadth of design no less than in its classic dignity of melody and orchestration, his music often recalls the style of the mighty composer of 'Alceste. Saint Saëns's latest opera, 'L'Ancêtre' , has not added materially to his reputation.
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