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Updated: June 6, 2025
There are many interesting things to be observed about the eggs of insects; as to their colour, they are generally of that best adapted for concealment; as to the way in which they are hatched, I have heard that the mother insect the Earwig was the one mentioned sometimes sits upon her eggs, and that one of the spiders has been seen sitting upon the silken bag which contained its eggs, and carrying it away if disturbed.
Well, I was to be served to my desire, for the scene to which he was conducting me was of a different character. There was a man waiting us in Prestongrange's study, whom I distasted at the first look, as we distaste a ferret or an earwig.
There was no hint of the comely roughness of untidy ivy on a ruin. Clipped, trained, and precise it was, as on a brand-new protestant church. I swear there was not a bird's nest nor a single earwig in it anywhere. About the porch it was particularly thick, smothering a seventeenth-century lamp with a contrast that was quite horrible.
He was more like an earwig. He must have come in here while I was asleep." "A deported waiter going back to his native Naples, I imagine," Jean said. "They ought not to have let you travel alone." She smiled. "I am a law unto myself." "That is a pity. Will you think me very impertinent if I confess that I have been watching over you at a respectful distance ever since we left Victoria?
Have you found out the rover transferring his adoration to Miss Molasses? or did mon cousin take advantage of the hour and the opportunity to lecture us last night on our love of admiration and general levity of conduct? Tell me all about it, dear. We shan't be disturbed. I'm not 'at home' to a soul; and my old man is busy dissecting an earwig, so he's quite safe till dinner-time.
"I should never think you were an earwig you're too pink and green but don't talk, I can hear something buzzing." "Santa Klaus doesn't buzz," said the Chintz Imp. "He comes down flop! Once in your aunt's time, I knew him nearly stick in the chimney. He had too many things in his sack. You should have heard how he struggled, it was like thunder! Everyone said how high the wind was."
"Any one with that name would be light as a fly and awf'ly gentle a regular dicky sort of chap!" "But he'd have pincers," she protested, "or he couldn't pull the hairs out. Like an earwig he'd be. Ugh!" "Not Winky! Never!" he explained scornfully, jealous of his offspring's reputation. "He'd do it with his rummy little fingers."
His father died before he had cut a tooth. His mother was old enough to be his grandmother. She had the intense maternal instinct and the brain, such as it is, of an earwig. She wrapped Doggie his real name was James Marmaduke in cotton-wool, and kept him so until he was almost a grown man. Doggie had never a chance. She brought him up like a toy Pom until he was twenty-one and then she died.
She picked up one of the volumes not that which her nephew had been reading and opened it at random, dashing it to the floor the next instant with a cry of disgust as a earwig fell from between the pages. Mr. Denton picked it up with a smothered expletive and said, "Poor book! I think you're rather hard on Mr. Poynter." "Was I, my dear?
And to the feast he had bidden all his liege lords and vassals Hubert the Husky, Edward the Earwig, Rollo the Rumbottle, and many others. In the meantime the Lady Isolde stood upon the battlements and mourned for the absent Guido. The love of Guido and Isolde was of that pure and almost divine type, found only in the middle ages. They had never seen one another.
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