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Your first glass of hermitage is the algebraic sign for five-and-thirty, the glorious burst is over; the pace is still good, to be sure, but the great enthusiasm is past. You can afford to look forward, but confound it, you've along way to look back also." "I say, Charley, our friend has contrived to finish the bishop during his disquisition; the bowl's quite empty." "You don't say so, Fred.
Upon our asking for water and soap we were directed to a room on the second floor where a bowl and pitcher stood on a wash-stand and a towel hung over a chair. "After having had such a dose of water last night I didn't think I'd ever care to wash again," said Nakwisi, "but that wash bowl's the best thing I've seen yet this morning. Hurry up and give me my turn."
He came to the dry, earthy disc in the bowl's center, and approached the tiger. His expression and body language were taut as he said. 'Why, Avatar? Why, of all the places you have ever been, did you bring me here? In mute reply the tiger carefully took one of the buds in his teeth and plucked it free, as on that night he had done, seeking the moisture and sustenance within.
"Yes, Fourth Probability Level; typical of the whole paratime belt I was working in." Verkan Vall handed it over for inspection. "The bowl's natural brier-root; the stem's a sort of plastic made from the sap of certain tropical trees. The little white dot is the maker's trademark; it's made of elephant tusk." "Sounds pretty crude to me, sir." The pilot handed it back. "Nice workmanship, though.
He saw, dimly, that Joe's chin was resting on his breast and that his eyes were closed; he heard him mutter in a voice that seemed to come from some distant room: "Of all 'e bowls I s-s-smell or see, The wassail bowl's 'e bowl f-f-for me," and the next moment both man and boy were fast asleep. When Ralph awoke, it was quite dark in the room.
The great herring fleet outside the harbor was as motionless as "a painted fleet upon a painted ocean" the men were sleeping or smoking upon the piers not a foot fell upon the flagged streets, and the only murmur of sound was round the public fountains, where a few women were perched on the bowl's edge, knitting and gossiping.
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