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The news was presently dispersed, and all felt an interest, until finally Nanking produced his stork. "It is like a stork, indeed!" uttered Peter Alrichs; "'tis big as one, too, but its wings are all white!" "'Tis a stork, yah, op myne eer! Upon my honor, it is!" muttered uncle Van Swearingen. "Nanking is not an idiot, papa!" said Elsje, overjoyed.
Sir William requested that the governor of Bergen op Zoom would at once embark the greater portion of his force on board ship and send them to Sluys. He himself was having a vessel filled with grain for the use of the inhabitants, and was also sending every man he could spare from Flushing. In a few minutes all was bustle in the town.
Thereupon the Shiek got up and made a long speech, in which he described his grief at being obliged to refuse the request. At the end of that time one of the women came op to them with a lovely waistcoat which she had manufactured out of the Wagnerian plaids; and when the Shiek saw it he immediately ordered all the tom-toms and kettle-drums in the camp destroyed, as they were no longer necessary.
In another sense he was the greatest of teachers. Sit at the piano and I will indicate the general plan pursued by Liszt at a lesson. Reisenauer is a remarkable and witty mimic of people he desires to describe. The present writer sat at the piano and played at some length through several short compositions, eventually coming to the inevitable "Chopin Valse, Op. 69, No. 1, in A flat major."
And the same day he received the news that Alfonso of Aragon, seized with a fatal panic, had abdicated his crown in favour of his son Ferrante, and was on his way to Sicily. F. Calvi, op. cit.
Among his sadder songs, the "Irish Folksong," "I'm Wearing Awa'," and the weird "In a Bower" are heavy with deepest pathos, while "Sweet Is True Love" is as wildly intense and as haunting in its woe as the fate of the poor Elaine, whose despair it sings. This I count one of the most appealing of modern songs. ARTHUR FOOTE, Op. 10, No. 1.
See Le Mesurier, op. cit. p. 78. It was already summer when, one morning, soon after sunrise, I set out from Genoa for Tuscany. The road to Spezia along the Riviera di Levante, among the orange groves and the olives, between the mountains and the sea, is one of the most beautiful in Europe.
Without the inner freedom of its predecessor, it is more sober and self- contained than the B minor Scherzo. The fourth Scherzo, op. 54, is in the key of E. Built up by a series of cunning touches and climaxes and without the mood depth or variety of its brethren, it is more truly a Scherzo than any of them. It has tripping lightness and there is sunshine imprisoned behind its open bars.
We are simply idling our time in Bergen op Zoom, and not one of us but is longing to be at home to bear his part in the events pending there. It is hard, indeed, to be confined in this miserable Dutch town while England is in danger.
The importance of the city was felt by both parties. Requesens himself went to Bergen op Zoom, where seventy-five ships were collected under the command, nominally, of Admiral de Glines, but really under that of Julian Romero, while another fleet of thirty ships was assembled at Antwerp, under D'Avila, and moved down towards Flushing, there to await the arrival of that of Romero.
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