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Updated: June 28, 2025
It was rather a pinched little household now, for the harness business shrank and shrank. "I don't see how you can expect me to keep house decently on this!" Babe would say contemptuously. Babe's nose, always a little inclined to sharpness, had whittled down to a point of late. "If you knew what Ben gives Eva." "It's the best I can do, Sis. Business is something rotten."
Then when the departing riders were mere specks in the distance he stepped to Babe's head, reached his fingers up one of her nostrils, and pulled out the wadded sheepskin document. "A heap o' fellas call themselves hossmen that don't know about that little pocket in a hoss' nose," came his whimsical Mendocino drawl. "She could snort all day, but the pocket ain't connected with her nostrils."
Dame Perrine wandered to and fro, like one beside herself, not only at her Lady's wretched accommodations, but at the ill omens of the moonlight illumination, of the owls who snapped and hissed incessantly over the hay, and above all the tears over the babe's face. She tried to remonstrate with Eustacie, but was answered only, 'Let me weep! Oh, let me weep! It eases my heart!
"How?" and Sah-luma laughed musically.. "My simple friend, dost thou ask me such a babe's question?"... He sprang from his couch, and standing erect, pushed his clustering dark hair off his wide, bold brows. . "Am I disfigured, aged, lame, or crooked-limbed? ... Cannot these arms embrace? these lips engender kisses? these eyes wax amorous? ... and shall not one brief hour of love with me console the weariest maid that ever pined for passion? ... Now, by my faith, how solemn is thy countenance! ... Art thou an anchorite, good Theos, and wouldst thou have me scourge my flesh and groan, because the gods have given me youth and vigorous manhood?"
Our life is as dependent upon Him as a babe's on its mother. Could ought happen to Him, we should instantly feel the effect. Long before He succumbed, we must. We have no independent, self-derived, or self-sustained life. Apart from Him we wither. We live in His life. The tiny streamlet of our being has joined His, is merged in it, and flows on together with it, to the great ocean of eternity.
IN the flush, and the rush, and the crush of Life's battle, When the stern blow of Right dashes loud on steeled Wrong, Half-drowning the voice of the babe's holy prattle, Remember the watchword the motto "Be strong!"
In their perplexity at the mother's insistence that the babe's name should be John none of his kindred being known by that name they appealed to his father, who with trembling hand inscribed on the wax of the writing tablet the verdict, "His name is John."
Every word that falls from her lips is a lie; she has deceived her father, she deceives the gods. Her face looks as innocent as a sleeping babe's. When she speaks you are enchanted; if you should let her go on, she would draw the dagger from your hand, bewitch, ensnare you, melt your heart by her accursed magic arts till you were as cowardly as a scourged slave.
Nature is then the sum total of its own conditions; the whole object, the parts observed plus the parts interpolated, is the self-existent fact. The mind, in its empirical flux, is a part of this complex; to say it is its own condition or that of the other objects is a grotesque falsehood. A babe's casual sensation of light is a condition neither of his own existence nor of his mother's.
As, from the nature of their occupation, but little time can be devoted to nursing the mother being compelled to constant labour at the oar the child is slung on to her back, and, as she moves to and fro with the stroke of the oar, the babe's soft face bobs in unison against its mother's back, a fact which will perhaps explain how it is that the lower class Chinese wear their noses flattened out on their two cheeks rather than in the prominent position usually selected by that organ.
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