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It required a strong effort to subdue my feelings. "'How does Bob Cole disguise himself? I asked, in as firm a voice as I could command. 'What does he do in the Yankee camp? "'That's what nobody, 'sides Bob an' the general, knows, answered the woman. 'Didn't you never see him? He's a little man, has black hair and eyes, wears no whiskers, and allers rides a little gray horse.

Six white figures slipped through the remaining bushes, six white figures reached the edge of the river, and then all six slid silently into the water, which received them and enveloped them to the chin. Henry, Seth Cole, and a man named Tom Wilmore bore the three iron pots above their heads, swimming with a single hand.

My husband had been laughing at the size of my page, and scolding me a little, or rather pretending to do so, for taking a written character. "Little woman," he said, "don't be surprised if one night a few country burglars make us a visit, and renew their acquaintance with Mr. J. Cole." "You don't know Joe," I replied, "or you would never say that."

Unwin, Industrial Organization in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries. S. and B. Webb, The History of Trade Unionism. Wallas, The Great Society. 1914. G. D. H. Cole, The World of Labour. 1915. On this point see Poverty and Waste, by Hartley Withers, 1914, written before the war, which has driven its lessons home. The Living Past, pp. 20, 21. Second Thoughts of an Economist, p. 89.

"He told me afterward that he had spoken to Miss Nuttall, and I was considerably embarrassed." "I understand you were a man of curious habits, Mr. Cole." "We are all people of curious habits," smiled the witness. "But you in particular. You were an Orientalist, I believe?" "I have studied Oriental languages and customs," said Jasper shortly.

If any degenerate monarch of modern times could be in any way compared with him, I should say the venerable King Cole would be that illustrious potentate. 'This good king had a queen, who eighteen years before, had had a son, who was called Bladud.

Cole was summoned to take a mission to the seamen of Drymouth, and Mrs. Cole, who had relations in Drymouth, accompanied him. They would be absent from Pelchester a whole week. "Oh, won't Aunt Amy be a nuisance," said Jeremy, realising the situation. Then turning to Mary he added: "We'll pretend to do what she tells us and not do it really. That's much the easiest."

The snuff-box of the Empress Elizabeth, a gift to the diplomatist of 1756, fetched 2l. 13s. 6d.! The poor old boy was badly hurt at a fencing match in his sixty-eighth year, and henceforth lived retired from arms in the house of a Mrs. Cole, an object of charity.

They'll have to pay me over the counter; and if you wait in the cab, by the Lord Harry, I'll pay you your seven thousand first! You don't deserve it, Cole, but you shall have it, and between us we'll see the others to blazes!" He jumped up all excitement, and was at the door next instant. "Stop!" I cried. "Where are you going?" "Downstairs to tell them." "Tell them what?"

"Oh, she'll never do," thought Mrs. Cole, as she looked at her dripping in the hall. "I can't think how I forgot it," said the poor lady, her mind fixed upon her umbrella. "They said that perhaps they would find it for me, but there was a man in my carriage, I remember, who will most certainly have taken it and it was a nice one with a silver handle." "Never mind," said Mrs.