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Updated: June 25, 2025
Farrer likewise observed that the worms living beneath the floor of the atrium often collected coarse grains of sand, and such little stones as they could find, round the mouths of their burrows. Sept. 13th; soft wet weather. The mouths of the burrows were re- opened, or castings were ejected, at 31 points; these were all defaced. Sept. 14th; 34 fresh holes or castings; all defaced.
Samuel Ward, he was elected to the Mastership of Sidney College, but was kept out of it by the oppression of the times. For his sufferings and great learning he was installed Prebendary of Westminster, Sept. 5, 1660. In the year following he resigned his living of Barley, and died in 1672. He assisted Dr. Mayor's "Nicholas Farrer: Two Lives by his brother John and Dr. Jebb."
"I'm the happiest man in the world," said Mr. Farrer, in accents of dreamy tenderness. Miss Ward sighed. "Wait till father comes in," she said. Mr. Farrer peered through the plants which formed a welcome screen to the window and listened with some uneasiness. He was waiting for the firm, springy step that should herald the approach of ex-Sergeant-Major Ward.
"I want a man for a son-in-law," said the other. "I don't say he's got to be a soldier." "Just so," said Mr. Farrer. "You're a man, ain't you? Well, I'll do anything that you'll do." "Pph!" said the sergeant-major. "I've done my little lot. I've been in action four times, and wounded in three places. That's my tally." "The colonel said once that my husband doesn't know what fear is," said Mrs.
You can go to Smith's cottage on Wednesday at twelve o'clock if you like, and I'll go up any time between twelve and three and make sure you're there. D'ye understand? I'll show you whether I'm afraid or not." "There's no reason for you to be afraid," said Mr. Farrer. "I shall be there to protect you. That's very different to being there alone, as I shall be.
And having tuned it, he played and sung: The Sundays of man's life, Threaded together on time's string, Make bracelets to adorn the wife Of the eternal glorious King: On Sundays Heaven's doors stand ope; Blessings are plentiful and rife, More plentiful than hope. Thus he sung on earth such Hymns and Anthems, as the Angels, and he, and Mr. Farrer, now sing in Heaven.
They're juist the very marrows o' ane anither; an' if you cairry the lines at the side o' them here a bit farrer doon, an' get in ablo the boddam o' the triangle, ye'll find that the corners aneth the boddam are juist the very marrows o' ane anither too. D'ye see?" "Ay, Sandy," I says, says I, "you'll better awa' an get Donal' yokit.
Farrer, "with long waving arms, hopping about like a frog. I don't suppose you believe me, but if you come to- night perhaps you'll see it yourself. It's very interesting. "Wer weren't you frightened?" inquired the staring Mrs. Ward. Mr. Farrer shook his head. "It would take more than that to frighten me," he said, simply. "I should be ashamed of myself to be afraid of a poor thing like that.
"It was open a little way, and he was standing up and measuring one of mother's nightgowns against his chest. I couldn't think what he was doing it for at first." Mr. Farrer whistled and his face hardened. "That's not fair play," he said at last. "All right; I'll be ready for him." "He doesn't like to be put in the wrong," said Miss Ward. "He wants to prove that you haven't got any courage.
"That'll do," said the sergeant-major, rising hastily and drawing himself up to his full height. "You asked me," said Mr. Farrer, in an aggrieved voice. "I know I did," said the sergeant-major, breathing heavily. "I know I did; but if I sit here listening to any more of your lies I shall be ill. The best thing you can do is to take that giggling girl out and give her a breath of fresh air.
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