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Updated: June 26, 2025
Then here was another Marta, after Hugo had been carried away on the litter, saying coolly to her mother: "'Unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's! We have our property, our home to protect. Perhaps the Grays have come to stay for good, so graciousness is our only weapon. We cannot fight a whole army single-handed." "You have found that out, Marta?" said Mrs. Galland.
The Gallands were rooted in the soil of the frontier; they were used to having war's hot breath blow past their door; they were at home in the language and customs of two peoples; theirs was a peculiar tradition, which Marta had absorbed with her first breath. Every detail of her circumscribed existence reminded her that she was a Galland.
Galland could not resist laughing, which was one way to stop further absurdities absurdities concealing a nervous strain they happened to be this time while Colonel Lanstron was a little flushed and ill at ease. She had a truly silvery laugh the kind no longer in fashion among the gentry since golden laughs came in, that went well with the dimples dipping into her pink cheeks.
"You lie, you scoundrel!" said the self-convicted Hibernian. This blunder is unquestionably excellent; but it is not originally Irish: it comes, with other riches, from the East, as the reader may find by looking into a book by M. Galland, entitled, "The Remarkable Sayings of the Eastern Nations."
"Even if you have been all the way around the world, it might be easier if you allowed me to help you a little," pursued Mrs. Galland. "Help! Help about what?" said Marta. That reply, as Marta knew now as an expert in deceit, was a mistake.
But what shall we do with this same Ramus and this Galland, with a pox to them, who, surrounded with a swarm of their scullions, blackguard ragamuffins, sizars, vouchers, and stipulators, set together by the ears the whole university of Paris? I am in a sad quandary about it, and for the heart's blood of me cannot tell yet with whom of the two to side.
Walking slowly with lowered head as she left the arbor, she almost ran into Bouchard, who apologized with the single word "Pardon!" as he lifted his cap in overdone courtesy, which his stolid brevity made the more conspicuous. "Miss Galland, you seem lost in abstraction," he said in sudden loquacity. "I am almost on the point of accusing you of being a poet." "Accusing!" she replied.
He says: "It is bad enough in the text of the tales to find that Captain Burton is not content with plainly calling a spade a spade, but will have it styled a dirty shovel; but in his notes he goes far beyond this, and the varied collection of abominations which he brings forward with such gusto is a disgrace and a shame to printed literature.... The different versions, however, have each its proper destination Galland for the nursery, Lane for the library, Payne for the study and Burton for the sewers."
He feared that she was about to become hysterical. "Really, Miss Galland, I women and children I " he was stammering. "Better kill the children young than go to the expense of bringing them up before they are killed!" she went on, not hysterically, unless frozen intensity is hysteria.
And when the results were announced a sweeping victory for Hull and the fusion ticket, Hugo Galland elected by five hundred over Falconer the Leaguers made no counter demonstration as the drunken gangs of machine heelers paraded in the streets with bands and torches. Kelly observed and was uneasy.
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