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And this grass has rare virtues, too, and imparts a flavor to the milk and butter that has made them famous. Along all the sources of the Delaware the land flows with milk, if not with honey. The grass is excellent, except in times of protracted drought, and then the browsings in the beech and birch woods are a good substitute. Butter is the staple product.
My first published story, written when I was eighteen, had appeared in the Churchman's Magazine in 1870, and an article on the "Poema del Cid," the first-fruits of my Spanish browsings in the Bodleian, appeared in Macmillan early in 1872.
"One more kiss then for luck!" So she kissed him, for luck, and left him to his midnight browsings.... Next morning she sat among her cushions in the studio, ostensibly reading a long letter from her father. Actually, her mind was intent on Nevil, who stood at his easel absorbed in fragmentary studies for a new picture flying draperies; a man's face cleverly fore-shortened.
Jones had never been a great reader, he had read a cheap novel or two, but his browsings in the literary fields had been mainly confined to the uplands where the grass is improving. Colour, poetry, and construction in fiction were unknown to him, and now he suddenly found himself on the beach at Trouville. On the beach at Trouville with Lady Dolly skipping before him in the sea.
The kitchen and gutters and other offices of noise and drudgery are at the fag-end; there's a back-gate for the beggars and the meaner sort of swains to come in at; the stables butt upon the park, which, for a cheerful rising ground, for groves and browsings for the deer, for rivulets of water, may compare with any of its bigness in the whole land; it is opposite to the front of the great house, whence from the gallery one may see much of the game when they are a-hunting.
That I could not." The doctor did not interrupt his witness's browsings in the pastures of memory; but when she deserted them, saying she had found nothing to crop, said suddenly: "Didn't tell him about Muggeridge and the other lady, who wasn't Mrs. Muggeridge?" "Now Lard a mercy, doctor, whatever do ye take me for? And all these years you've known me!
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