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"There is one thing about Sir Horace's account which struck me as peculiar. Every four weeks for the past eight months Sir Horace drew a cheque for £24, and every cheque of the kind was made payable to Number 365. Now, unless he wished to hide the nature of the transaction from his bankers, why not put in the cheque in the name of the person who received the money?
And since you object to travelling with 'blacks' I suggest that you leave the carriage." Did Horace's ears deceive him? Did he sleep, did he dream, and were visions about? Leave the carriage? "Look 'ere," he shouted, "you keep a civil tongue in your 'ead. Don't you know I am a gentleman? What do you mean by getting into a first-class carriage with a gentleman and insulting 'im?
"Well," replied Horace, "they aren't mine." "O, yes. Ugh! you've got 'em. Melon-water good! Me have melon-waters, me give you moc-suns." "I'll ask my grandpa, Wampum." Hereupon the crafty little Indian shook his head. "You ask ole man, me no give you moc-suns! Me no want een me want bimp bumpin jiggets." Horace's stout little heart wavered for a moment. He fancied moccasins very much.
Had not the doctor predicted, before the catastrophe due to Horace's culpable negligence, that Sidney would grow into a strong man, and that his deafness would leave him? The truth was, one never knew the end of those accidents in infancy! Further, was not Sidney's sad condition slowly killing his mother? It was whispered about that, since the disaster, Sidney had not been QUITE sound mentally.
He writes again to Vossius some time after, that if his son had a dislike to long voyages, he would nevertheless have him study Commerce and Navigation rather than the quibbles of the Law: "Not but a general knowledge of public law, and the laws of his own country, may be of use to him whatever manner of life he chuses: but I would not have him make it his principal study; and remember Horace's precept, to keep his eye ever on the mark.
"Well, sir, I just gave a glance round, for of course I didn't expect anything would be wrong." Inspector Chippenfield fixed a steady glance on the butler to ascertain if he was conscious of the trap he had avoided. "Did you look in this room?" "Yes, sir. I made a point of looking in all the rooms." "You are sure that Sir Horace's dead body was not lying here?"
I lay the whole blame of the blood shed between France and Germany at their door." Horace's eyes opened wide in amazement. The old lady was evidently in earnest. "What can you possibly mean?" he asked. "Are the newspapers responsible for the war?" "Entirely responsible," answered Lady Janet. "Why, you don't understand the age you live in!
But it is better when a man reads from immediate inclination. He repeated a good many lines of Horace's Odes, while we were in the chaise. I remember particularly the Ode Eheu fugaces. He told me that Bacon was a favourite authour with him; but he had never read his works till he was compiling the English Dictionary, in which, he said, I might see Bacon very often quoted. Mr.
Horace laughed indulgently: his self-esteem was more gently flattered than ever. "Absurd!" he exclaimed. "My darling, you are connected with Lady Janet Roy. Your family is almost as good as ours." "Almost?" she repeated. "Only almost?" The momentary levity of expression vanished from Horace's face.
Horace's part in the battle of Philippi had long since become to him a laughable episode of youth. He had even made a merry verse about it, casting the unashamed story of his flight in the words of Archilochus and Alcaeus, as if the chief result for him had been a bit of literary experiment.
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