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Jean le Rond at Paris, and brought up by the wife of a glazier; and Newton and Laplace, the one the son of a small freeholder near Grantham, the other the son of a poor peasant of Beaumont-en-Auge, near Honfleur.
To the reporters who sought her out when her place of retreat became known, she averred that she had no idea of my whereabouts. In the meantime, under the name of Mallory, I was living near by, was renting a room in the house of a Mrs. Rond, whose husband was an artist. I came and went to and from my cottage by a bye-path through the pines that led to the back door.
"You mean, Mrs. Rond, that they would dare go so far as to instigate an attack on me and Hildreth ... with possibly fatal results?" "Of course they would ... they need more news ... they want something more to happen ... to have all this uproar end tamely in happy, permanent love that's what they couldn't endure.... "Well," she resumed after a pause, "what are you going to do?
How could they have imagined that a writer 'a rouet' could be a man of genius? And D'Alembert, would he have attained his high fame, his universal reputation, if he had been satisfied with his name of M. Le Rond, or Mr. Allround? What would have become of Metastasio under his true name of Trapasso? What impression would Melanchthon have made with his name of Schwarzerd?
During four days that the party were ascending Gun Creek, the smoke continued to increase so rapidly that it was impossible to distinguish the face of the country and ascertain landmarks. Fortunately, the travellers fell upon an Indian trail which led them to the head-waters of the Fourche de Glace or Ice River, sometimes called the Grand Rond.
Outfit of a trapper Risks to which he is subjected Partnership of trappers Enmity of Indians Distant smoke A country on fire Gun Greek Grand Rond Fine pastures Perplexities in a smoky country Conflagration of forests. IT had been the intention of Captain Bonneville, in descending along Snake River, to scatter his trappers upon the smaller streams.
Mlle. Coira O'Hara sat alone upon the stone bench at the hither end of the rond point. With a leisurely hand she put fine stitches into a mysterious garment of white, with lace on it, and over her not too arduous toil she sang,
Rond informed me, strange men were appearing on the street corners, conducting a regular soapbox campaign against us.... Some of them were seen to get on and off trains going to and coming from New York....
I therefore resolved to split up my forces, the corps known by the name of the "Rond Commando" taking one portion through the enemy's lines to Pilgrimsrust, North of Lydenburg, where food was still abundant. Fighting-General Muller was left behind with the Boksburg Police and the Middelburg Commando, the Johannesburg corps going with me to Pilgrim's Rest, where I had my temporary headquarters.
Among the grotesque personages sculptured on the wall, there was one to whom he was particularly attached, and with which he often seemed to exchange fraternal glances. Once the gypsy heard him saying to it, "Oh! why am not I of stone, like you!" At last, one morning, la Esmeralda had advanced to the edge of the roof, and was looking into the Place over the pointed roof of Saint-Jean le Rond.
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