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Updated: May 7, 2025
Father Malachi Brennan, P.P. of Carrigaholt, was what I had often pictured to myself as the beau ideal of his caste; his figure was short, fleshy, and enormously muscular, and displayed proportions which wanted but height to constitute a perfect Hercules; his legs so thick in the calf, so taper in the ancle, looked like nothing I know, except perhaps, the metal balustrades of Carlisle bridge; his face was large and rosy, and the general expression, a mixture of unbounded good humour and inexhaustible drollery, to which the restless activity of his black and arched eye brows greatly contributed; and his mouth, were it not for a character of sensuality and voluptuousness about the nether lip, had been actually handsome; his head was bald, except a narrow circle close above the ears, which was marked by a ring of curly dark hair, sadly insufficient however, to conceal a development behind, that, if there be truth in phrenology, bodes but little happiness to the disciples of Miss Martineau.
After replying to these questions Anna asked Agnes about Penoyer, and when she had seen him. "Don't mention it," said Agnes, "but I have a suspicion that he stopped yesterday at the depot when I did. I may have been mistaken, for I was looking after my baggage and only caught a glimpse of him. If it were he his presence bodes no good." "Have you told Carrie?" asked Juliet. "No, I have not.
Of course many of them appear again and again in the prison statistics, nevertheless they form a great and terrible army, whose increase bodes ill for dear and fair old England. Like birds they are migratory, but they pour no sweetness on the morning or evening air. Like locusts they leave a blight behind. Like famished wolves when winter draws near they seek the habitations of men.
"Hath Noah's Ark ever told a lie?" the ancient pilot shouted, pointing with one hand at these, and with a clinched fist at the sea, whence came puffs of sullen air, and turned his gray locks backward. "Mackerel sky when the sun got up, mermaiden's eggs at noon, and now afore sunset Noah's Arks! Any of them breweth a gale of wind, and the three of them bodes a tempest.
Wit in a poor mans head, and mosse in a mountain, avails nothing. Weil is that weil does. Well good-mother-daughter. Whatrax of the seed, where the frendship dow not. Wood in wildernesse, & strength in a fool. Weapons bodes peace. Wiles help weak folk. Waken not sleeping dogs. Women and bairns keep counsell of that they ken not. We hounds flew the Hare, quoth the messoun.
"You do not understand," said Harry, seriously; "it was not that at all. But when the mists rise over Turlock sands, as they did that day, a black, square-rigged vessel glides across them, which bodes ill to those who see her; and I saw her as plain as I see you." "But not so near," said Richard, fondly. "She was coming from Turlock to the quarry yonder "
If they find next morning a footprint turned towards the door, it signifies a death in the family within the year; but if the footprint is turned in the opposite direction, it bodes a marriage. Again, divination by eavesdropping is practised in the Isle of Man in much the same way as in Scotland.
'Tis a long and sad story, and, worse than all one that bodes ill for the Empire. I should have arrived earlier in the day, but my poor, patient beast has fallen lame." "Yes!" said the girl indignantly, "and you spare him instead of yourself!" The monk laid his left hand affectionately on her shoulder. "You would have done the same, my dear," he said, and she looked up at him with a sweet smile.
The gold-and-copper pollen turns to rusty tears that mar the petals of satin ivory or inlaid enamel, and a sickly transparency that bodes death comes to the crisp, translucent flower! "What a pother for a bed of flowers!" I hear you say, "draining, subsoiling, sulphuring, sanding, covering, humouring, and then sunstroke or consumption at the end!"
With a faint exclamation she showed the marks to Rose, saying at the same time, "What bodes this? Is this the revenge of the Bloody-finger already commencing?" "It bodes nothing, my dearest lady," said Rose "it is our fears that are prophets, not those trifles which we take for augury. For God's sake, speak to my lord! He is surprised at your agitation."
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