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Buckland was of a jovial disposition, and always sure to see the humorous side of the facts which were presented to him; and in his social life he was extremely unconventional, and inclined to merry pranks. His books are as delightful as was their writer. They are records of accurate, useful, eye-opening details as to fauna, all the world over.
"Notwithstanding her devotion to her husband's pursuits," says her son, Frank Buckland, in the preface to one of his father's works, "she did not neglect the education of her children, but occupied her mornings in superintending their instruction in sound and useful knowledge.
'Well, answered Buckland, changing his position, 'I went to work in rather an underhand way, perhaps but the results are satisfactory. No, I haven't come across any of his friends, but I happened to hear not long ago that he was on intimate terms with some journalists. His father laughed. 'Anything compromising in that association, Buckland?
She remembered that by this time her mother must be aware of the extraordinary disclosure, and that a new scene of wretched agitation had to be gone through. 'Sidwell! It was Mrs. Warricombe's voice, and the door opened. 'Sidwell! What does all this mean? I don't understand half that Buckland has been telling me.
'Sidwell used to paint a little, said Buckland, as his companion bent to examine a small canvas on which a landscape was roughed in. It lay on a side table, and was half concealed by an ordnance map, left unfolded. 'For the last year or two I think she has given it up. I'm afraid we are not strong in matters of art.
While she did it only with her tongue, I bore it; but when she took hold of you, I couldn't stand that, Flora no, I could not." "I can bear it very well, Buckland." She never called me "Buck," as everybody else did about the place. "I only fear what they will do to you." "I can take care of myself, dearest Flora.
"I will go to bed now, Buckland," said she. "Good night." "Good night, Flora." She went into the house, and I heard nothing more from her till morning. I know that she prayed for me that night, as she always did; and I looked up to the shining stars, and commended her to the good Father.
London: Printed for James Buckland, at the Buck, in Paternoster Row, MDCCLXV. The relation of my imprisonment in the month of November 1660.
The Second Division, commanded by Major-General Frank P. Blair; and his three brigades by Colonel Giles A. Smith, Colonel Thomas Gilby Smith, and Brigadier-General Hugh Ewing. The Third Division, commanded by Brigadier-General J. M. Tuttle; and his three brigades by Brigadier-General R. P. Buckland, Colonel J. A. Mower, and Brigadier-General John E. Smith.
So far, so good; but not long afterwards, a statement appeared in the 'Times' that the skull of Ben Jonson was in the possession of a blind gentleman at Stratford- upon-Avon. Hereupon Mr. Ryde observed had been purloined from the grave on the second opening. Mr. Buckland is a scientific naturalist, and an ardent worshipper of the closest of all observers, John Hunter.
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