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Oi, weh! what haven't I imagined, what haven't I dreamed, what haven't I lamented! Already three letters have I sent the last one, you know, you yourself wrote for me, Hannah Hayye, dear and no answer. Lost, as if in the sea!" And after the application of a corner of her shawl to eyes and nose, Hayye Dvoshe, continuing:
"Oh," she resumed, as soon as she could be heard, "white folks is werry kine. Dey wants us to b'lieb we happy dey wants to b'lieb we is. W'y, you know, dey 'bleeged to b'lieb it fo' dey own cyumfut. 'Tis de sem weh wid de preache's; dey buil' we ow own sep'ate meet'n-houses; dey b'liebs us lak it de bess, an' dey knows dey lak it de bess." The laugh at this was mostly her own.
I suppose you are sure to find him in the morning?" "We will bring up a terrier whatever," Roderick said, doubtfully; for he seemed to have been entirely disconcerted by the disappearance of the phantom stag. "Ay, I hef known them rin a long weh after being wounded miles and miles they will go but this wan wass so hard hit, I thought he would drop directly.
As he approached the outer door he sang cheerful ballads of heroic doings, partly because he was glad, but also to reassure himself. "One whom he expects awaits," he announced to the keeper of the gate. "The name of Wo, the son of Weh, should suffice." "It does not," replied the keeper, swinging his roomy sleeve specifically. "So far it has an empty, short-stopping sound.
"Réorganiser, sans Dieu ni roi, Par le culte systématique de l'Humanité," the shattered frame of modern society. In those days I knew my "Faust" pretty well, and, after reading this word of might, I was minded to chant the well-known stanzas of the "Geisterchor" "Weh! Weh! Die schöne welt. Sie stürzt, sie zerfällt Wir tragen Die Trümmern ins Nichts hinüber.
"Why, I think we have one. I'll go look in the nursery and make sure, but I'm almost positive " "No, I'll take your word for it. You're around the house more than I am.... But, oh, say, speaking of that, that reminds me: Woman, if you think that I'm going to buy you a washing-machine this year, when I've already bought you a napkin-ring and a portrait of Martha Washington " "Oh weh!
We could see how the edifice of fine, white limestone had been erected upon an older foundation of basalt, and how an earthquake had twisted it and shaken down its pillars. "Weh dir, Capernaum" I quoted. The padre nodded his head gravely. "Ja, ja," said he, "es ist buchstäblich erfüllt!"
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