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Updated: June 20, 2025
All that Jesus has taught us of God, we must bring to bear on man. The elements and the stars come over us, as they came over George Fox in the Vale of Beavor; what is man? Can one out of fifteen hundred millions of human beings living on one planet matter to God, when there are so many planets and stars, and there have been so many generations? Can he matter?
Love to Madame Beavor, as they adjourned to the salon, "I don't think you manage that brave man well." "Ma foi, comme il est ennuyeux avec sa Pologne," replied Madame Beavor, shrugging her shoulders. "True; but he is a very fine-shaped man; and it is a comfort to think that one will have no rival but his country. Trust me, and encourage him a little more; I think he would suit you to a T."
"You are triste, Monsieur," observed Madame Beavor, in rather a piqued tone, to the Pole, who had not said a word since the roti. "Madame, an exile is always triste: I think of my pauvre pays." "Bah!" cried Mr. Love. "Think that there is no exile by the side of a belle dame." The Pole smiled mournfully. "Pull it," said Madame Beavor, holding a cracker to the patriot, and turning away her face.
"Still-what dower has she?" "Forty thousand francs, and sickly," replied Mr. Love; "but she likes a tall man, and Monsieur Goupille is " "Tall men are never well made," interrupted the Vicomte, angrily; and he drew himself aside as Mr. Love, gallantly advancing, gave his arm to Madame Beavor, because the Pole had, in rising, folded both his own arms across his breast. "Excuse me, ma'am," said Mr.
Weltje Street was named after a favourite cook of George IV.'s, who had a house on its site. He is buried in the churchyard. Linden House is old, but has no history. Beavor Lodge, which gives its name to Beavor Lane, was formerly owned by Sir Thomas Beavor.
"No swords here, if you please," said Mr. Love, putting his vast hands on the Pole's shoulder, and sinking him forcibly down into the circle now formed. The game proceeded with great vigour and much laughter from Rosalie, Mr. Love, and Madame Beavor, especially whenever the last thumped the Pole with the heel of the slipper.
One Beavor, the captain, has done us notable service: the Pretender sent to commend his zeal and activity, and to tell him, that if he would return to his allegiance, he should soon have a flag. Beavor replied, "He never treated with any but principals; that if the Pretender would come on board him, he would talk with him."
The Pole mused, and, glancing at Madame Beavor, said, "And yet, madame, your charming gaiety consoles me amidst all my suffering;" upon which Madame Beavor called him "flatterer," and rapped his knuckles with her fan; the latter proceeding the brave Pole did not seem to like, for he immediately buried his hands in his trousers' pockets. The game was now at its meridian.
The Indians being assembled presently after my arrivall, & having laid out their presents before me, being Beavors' tailes, caribou tongues dry'd, Greas of Bears, Deere, & of Elks, one of the Indians spake to my Brother-in-Law & mee in this wife: "You men that pretend to give us our Lifes, will not you let us live? You know what Beavor is worth, & the paines wee take to get it.
Monsieur Favart turned round and saw the Pole making himself as small as possible behind the goodly proportions of Madame Beavor. "What name does that gentleman go by?" "So vo lofski, the heroic Pole," cried Madame Beavor, with sundry misgivings at the unexpected cowardice of so great a patriot. "Hein! take care of yourselves, ladies. I have nothing against that person this time.
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