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"Couldn't we overpower him," Horace said, "and bind him, and leave him in the ditch?" "Yes," said Hester, "or ask him to have a glass of milk, and drug it?" "Don't be absurd," said Robert. "This is serious. All right," he called out to P.C. Roper, who was getting anxious, "we're just coming." Then Janet had a happy thought.

Is dear Miss Rose coming back?" "O! nonsense; what a guess!" said Adelaide. "No, stranger than that. My brother Horace your papa has actually sailed for America, and is coming directly home." Elsie sprang up, her cheeks flushed, and her little heart beating wildly. "O Aunt Adelaide!" she cried, "is it really true? is he coming? and will he be here soon?"

"Yes," continued Tomlinson, with conscious pride, "I owe my rise to myself. Learning is better than house and land. 'Doctrina sed vim, etc. You know what old Horace says? Why, sir, you would not believe it; but I was the man who killed his Majesty the King of Sardinia in our yesterday's paper. Nothing is too arduous for genius.

The candle had burned low; he took a fresh one from the drawer of the table, and, after lighting it, drew a Latin dictionary near to him, opened a worn copy of Horace, and began to study. Quiet as his own shadow stood the fragile girl behind his chair, but as she watched him a heavy sigh escaped her.

As they went down the stairs Steve said: "I came across Eric Sawyer in the hall when I went down to find 'Horace'." "Really?" asked Tom. "Did he say anything?" "No. I didn't want any trouble with him to-night and so I made believe I didn't see him." "That's the stuff," Tom approved. "I guess if we leave him alone he won't bother us."

Though now ye glory in your lust, Though now ye tread the feeble neck in dust, Yet Time and righteous Jove will judge your dreadful cause." The poems of Alcaeus were principally war and drinking songs of great beauty, and it is said that they furnished to the Latin poet Horace "not only a metrical model, but also the subject-matter of some of his most beautiful odes."

'I want to see Mr. Clarence's white feather, observed Anne. 'Griff has a white plume in his Yeomanry helmet, replied Martyn; 'Clarence hasn't one. 'Oh, I saw Mr. Griffith's! she answered; 'but Cousin Horace said Mr. Clarence showed the white feather. 'Cousin Horace is an ape! cried Martyn. 'I don't think he is so nice as an ape, said Anne. 'He is more like a monkey.

"Can't say as to that," said Ruby Grigg doubtfully, and a little sulkily; "there's lots of people here as likes the old ways better." "Perhaps so," said Horace; "but they may be wrong in what they like. Now, I ask you again tell me honestly don't you see a change for the better yourself in Bridgepath?" "Well, I don't know," replied the old man, fidgeting about; "it's been a worse change for me.

The earthenware manufactory was not going well. Plenty of business was being done, but not at the right prices. Crushed between the upper and nether millstones of the McKinley Tariff and German competition, Horace, in company with other manufacturers, was breathing out his life's blood in the shape of capital. The truth was that he had never had enough capital.

"Well, sir, with a man like Birchill it is impossible to say when he is telling the truth, and when he isn't." "There was no lady with Sir Horace when you left him that night when he returned from Scotland?" "No, sir." "I think you said he was in a hurry to get you out of the house, and told you not to come back?" "That is what I thought at the time, sir."