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He had a special liking for the minor poems of Thomas Hood and of Oliver Wendell Holmes. Dr. Holmes, writing in July, 1885, says that of all the tributes received by him, the one of which he was most proud was from "good Abraham Lincoln," who had a great liking for the poem of "The Last Leaf," and "repeated it from memory to Governor Andrew, as the Governor himself told me." Mr.
A figure had emerged from under one of the benches; with snake-like, noiseless movements it crept closer and closer to the two young men, not breathing, only gliding along the floor, in the inky blackness of the room. "You are to read these instructions and commit them to memory," said Sir Andrew, "then destroy them."
The heart, the generous instinct these were the things that the war had awakened in Elodie and these were the things that mattered and made him so gracious a homecoming. And she had grasped the inner truth of the war. She had accepted it in the grand manner, like a daughter of France. So at least it seemed to Andrew. The depth of her feelings he did not try to gauge.
At first our pies had a very oily and fishy taste; but Andrew showed us that this fishy flavour is confined to the fat, the whole of which is under the skin, and chiefly near the thighs. By carefully skinning the birds, they tasted like ordinary land-fowl; and before the officers found out the secret, we had a capital pie every day for dinner.
Its salt is in his blood, and when the tide is going with a race and a roar, and the break of the waves and the howl of the wind is like a thousand guns, then Andrew Binnie is in the element he likes best; aye, though his boat be spinning round like a laddie's top." "Well, Janet, I will be going."
"I should not have believed anyone who told me that I was capable of such love," said Prince Andrew. "It is not at all the same feeling that I knew in the past. The whole world is now for me divided into two halves: one half is she, and there all is joy, hope, light: the other half is everything where she is not, and there is all gloom and darkness...."
No now I go into my grave, and close the door behind me; I have a right to rest after a life so full of trouble and work." "The bell is ringing for prime." "Jam moesta quiesce querela." The Tiber had overflowed Rome, and destroyed quite a quarter of it, but spared the convent of St. Andrew.
This in reality was the first note of the retreat from Beckley; and having blown it, the hideous little trumpeter burst into scarlet perspirations, mumbling to Lady Jocelyn: 'Now, my lady, mind you stand by me. The Countess walked straight up to him. 'Dear Andrew! this sun is too powerful for you. I beg you, withdraw into the shade of the house.
I had a conviction that poor Wisi had passed her happiest days, and would never be light-hearted again; and I could not express my sorrow for Andrew. What would he say? He said nothing, not one word, but went about for several years like a shadow, and became more silent than ever, and had no longer the quietly happy expression that formerly distinguished him." "Poor fellow!" cried Max.
"Hadn't you better get up and see if any one is listening at the door, Captain Murray?" said Andrew sarcastically. "Because my words sound treasonable, my lad?" "Yes, and may be magnified by the echoes of the Palace walls, sir." The big, frank officer sank back in his chair, and laughed merrily.
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