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Updated: May 9, 2025
Another long-shanked ugly rogue, mounted on a pair of high-heeled wooden slippers, meeting a strapping, fusty, squabbed dowdy, says he to her, How is't my top? She was short upon him, and arrogantly replied, Never the better for you, my whip. By St. Antony's hog, said Xenomanes, I believe so; for how can this whip be sufficient to lash this top?
The earth it self shall tremble, and the shock Make mountains cleft against each other knock. Marcellus guide the laws, Curior the crowd, Let Lentulus inspire the warlike god. But why is't Caesar such slow measures takes? Not scale the walls? Nor force th' aspiring gates, Nor to the town, nor to the treasure makes?
He could call to mind no such English blazon, nor did it seem to him that it could possibly be English. He caught the sound of a quickly indrawn breath behind him. He turned to find Rosamund standing in the entrance, not more than half concealed by the curtain. Her face showed white and eager, her eyes were wide. "What is't?" he asked her shortly.
"Lass, how is't I find you here?" asked Jonathan gravely. With many a pause and broken phrase, Helen told the story of what she had seen and heard at the spring. "Child, why didn't you go to my brother?" asked Jonathan. "You don't know what you undertook!" "I thought of everything; but I wanted to find you myself. Besides, I was just as safe alone on this mountain as in the village."
Alcippus, touch her not. Alcip. Not touch her! by Heaven, I will, And who shall hinder me? Who is't dares say I shall not touch my Wife? Phi. Villain, thou ly'st. Alcip. That y'are my Prince shall not defend you here. Draw, Sir, for I have laid respect aside. Er. Oh Gods, what mean you? hold, Philander, hold. Phi.
"Would ye get yir licks if yir hair wasna brushed?" And then Speug interfered, and commanded silence that Nestie might satisfy the curiosity of the school. "Haud yir blethering tongues!" was his polite form of address. "Noo, Nestie, come awa' wi' yir evidence. What like is't to live wi' Bulldog?"
What is't, Judith?" he hastily demanded "Is any thing to be seen?" "There is a man on the rock! An Indian warrior, in his paint-and armed!" "Where does he wear his hawk's feather?" eagerly added Deerslayer, relaxing his hold of the line, in readiness to drift nearer to the place of rendezvous. "Is it fast to the war-lock, or does he carry it above the left ear?"
In answer to the suicide's proposition to give back his spirit to God who gave it, the poet represents God as saying to him: "Is't returned as 'twas sent? Is't no worse for the wear? Think first what you are! Call to mind what you were! I gave you innocence, I gave you hope, Gave health, and genius, and an ample scope. Return you me guilt, lethargy, despair?
"What avails A part without the whole?" the youth exclaimed; "Can there be here a lesser or a greater? The truth thou speak'st of, like mere earthly dross, Is't but a sum that can be held by man In larger or in smaller quantity?
'It's a shame, she said, 'a horrid shame, that we should never hae kent there was a place like this ootside o' Glesca. Wha is't made for? the rich, I suppose, as the best things are. 'Oh no, said Teen quite gently. 'There are plenty puir folk in the country, an' bad folk tae. Mrs.
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