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Updated: May 9, 2025
Among the rest, George Bowring had been scared, far more than he liked to own, by the sudden death of his butcher, between half a dozen chops for cutlets and the trimming of a wing-bone. George's own cook had gone down with the order, and meant to bring it all back herself, because she knew what butchers do when left to consider their subject. And Mrs.
But, as I have repeatedly said, the object of this work is to diminish rather than to increase the frequency of these trials, useful though they may be, if duly improved, in the formation of virtuous, and even of holy character. There is a sense in which every infant may be said to be born healthy, so that we may not only adopt the language of the poet, Bowring, and say
"It's true that I'm not very old," he answered. "I was five-and-twenty on my last birthday." "Five-and-twenty," repeated Mrs. Bowring very slowly, and looking at the distance, with the air of a person who is making a mental calculation. "Are you surprised?" asked the young man, watching her. She started a little. "Surprised? Oh dear no! Why should I be?"
"We like you, Mr. Howard." Mr. Bowring spoke slowly and with a carefulness in selecting words that indicated embarrassment. "And we have been impressed by your earnestness. But we greatly fear that you are not fitted for this profession. You write well enough, but you do not seem to get the newspaper the news idea.
Other religious men not so conspicuous as Sir John Bowring, but of more enlightened days than his, have died and left on earth a testimony to strangely divergent views and principles, according to whether they were crystallized in religious sentiments, or in the laws of the land, and according to whether they legislated for men or for women.
Borrow confessed to being "a little frightened at first" of the distinguished man, whom he described as having "a thin weaselly figure, a sallow complexion, a certain obliquity of vision, and a large pair of spectacles." Bowring appears to have ventilated his views with some freedom, and to have had a rather serious passage of arms with another guest whom he had rudely contradicted.
Bowring. "It is like you but I suppose you have a right to save your son from such trouble. But there is something else do you know what has happened? He has been making love to Clare he has asked her to marry him, and she has refused. She told me this morning and I have told her the truth that you and I were once married." She paused, and watched Sir Adam's furrowed face.
This poor old fellow came on me quite suddenly, from behind a rock, when all my mind was full of my father; and his eyes met mine, and down he fell, as if I had shot him through the heart!" "It is Hopkin ap Howel!" I cried, as the great eyes, glaring with the horror of death, stood forth. "Black Hopkin once, white Hopkin now! Robert Bowring, you have slain the man who slew your father."
I started with terror, and rushed forward, and heard myself called, and saw young Bowring leap up, and stand erect and firm, although with a gesture of horror. At his feet lay the body of a man struck dead, flung on its back, with great hands spread on the eyes, and white hair over them. No need to ask what it meant. At last the justice of God was manifest.
You know how the sea sometimes breaks on the beach." Mrs. Bowring and her daughter desired of all things to be quiet. The visitors who came, stayed a few days at the hotel, and went away again, were as a rule tourists or semi-invalids in search of a climate, and anything but noisy. But people coming in a smart English yacht would probably be society people, and as such Mrs.
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