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"Yes, there's a chance there," replied the grave man, seemingly not overmuch pleased; "I dare say everything you do or leave undone is for his sake." The little wife betrayed for a moment a pained perplexity, and then exclaimed: "Well, of course!" and waited his answer with bright eyes. "I have known women to think of their own sakes," was the response.
He discovered that the palms of the old man's hands were as white as his own, and the fact was such a source of wonder that he at last made it the subject of remark. The response of Uncle Remus led to the earnest recital of a piece of unwritten history that must prove interesting to ethnologists.
The King divined that this must be the ballad-singer the beggar-maid who loved him, who, by some secret emissaries of the Queen, had been driven away from the city, homeless and outcast; and, snatching his lute from the wall, he sang a few plaintive verses in response.
The ardor of Andrew Lyon's benevolent feelings suddenly cooled at this unexpected reception. He had entered upon his work under the glow of a pure enthusiasm; anticipating a hearty response the moment his errand was made known. "I thank you in the widow's name," said he, as he took the dollar. When he turned from Mr.
Also Mrs. Irving set on the table a yellow-topped pitcher of milk fresh from the cow. "Our friend, Lizzie Davis, brought it," their chaperon answered with a smile, in response to the girls' curious questions. "Also some fresh butter and eggs, I have an idea," she added, as she got up to refill the butter plate, "that we shall live on the fat of the land while we are here."
No emigrant will be sent out in response to any application from abroad where the emigrant's expenses are defrayed, without references as to character, industry, and fitness. This Bureau, we think, will be especially useful to women and young girls.
And, after all, an independent life is the best life; so I hawk myself about like a pot of beer, and say, 'Drink of this, anyone who likes, while it still contains liquor." "It makes one feel ashamed to hear such talk," said Vologonov with a sigh. In response she burst out laughing. "What a virtuous man!" was her comment upon his remark.
He knocked, and on getting a response inquired whether there was any trouble. "Doesn't the water run, David?" he asked. "Is it too cold for you? How are you getting on in there?" "Getting on beautifully," came the muffled voice of the humorist above the splashing within. "Doing a great job. Only one tub more! Four off and one to come."
So was her habit of sometimes singing a hymn, “Rest for the Weary,” when no other sign of mental life was given. But, more important than these, she could not infrequently be induced to answer questions and at such times she spoke promptly and with natural affective response. A number of her replies were of the type to be expected in a benign stupor.
One condition she made, when their mutual troth was plighted, that it should, for a time at least, remain a secret from the Court, and to this the Elector gratefully assented. Such was the strange wooing of Augustus and the Countess Aurora, in which passion had its response in a pity which, in this case at least, was the parent of love.
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