United States or Tanzania ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


She felt the hardship of having to weary her brain with a new cypher, and self-pity inflames the lachrymose glands. "To business then, mein liebchen attend carefully to every word. In England you must be received by Royalty itself, and you must go into the highest circles of the diplomatic and political world. The men are indiscreet there; they trust their women and tell them secret things.

We slid a tree down under the water, and then another, and so on, till it was a messy-looking channel, a sort of log jam, with roots and palm-tree tops mixed in, which I thought the tide would float out, and it did afterward, some of it. Then we went back to where Kamelillo was cooking, squatted on the shore with his bare back turned to the water. He took no interest in Liebchen.

He'd sit out on the end of a log moonlight nights, with his fat face and spectacles shining, and Liebchen would muzzle around with a ten-foot snout like an engine boiler, and a piggy eye; and he'd sing German lullabies; "Du bist wie eine Blume." I didn't think she was like a flower. She was more like an oil tank. So Kreps would sing to her in the moonlight, but Kamelillo didn't like her.

She's been spinning ever since daylight, I believe." "Is it hard work spinning, Liebchen?" he asked. Carlen turned her round blue eyes on him with astonishment. There was something in his tone that smote vaguely on her consciousness. What could he mean, asking such a question as that? "No," she said, "it is not hard exactly.

Why, liebchen, I'll take my oath right this minute Georgia hasn't a freckle! Am I an ingrate? Didn't Georgia bring me to you? and is anything too much, even to the reading of her stuff yes, by Jove, and liking it? "Now prepare yourself to receive the sympathy of every one you know when you tell them you are going to marry me.

And as she heard her feverish heart throb against the desk, she firmly believed the wearing impulses of that heart would put an end to her sad life, and momentarily recalled the banished image of St. Cleeve to apostrophise him in thoughts that paraphrased the quaint lines of Heine's Lieb' Liebchen:

Kamelillo says: "Why for? She not my whale. You keep her out a my suppa. Why for?" Kreps was disgusted because Kamelillo didn't like Liebchen. He went and stood on the bank, in the interest of science, and studied the habits of the cetacean, but he got no results. She had no habits, to speak uprightly, only notions. They weren't any use to science.

"I'm tired," she said, with an appealing glance of her big blue eyes at the old woman. "Mayn't we stay here and rest while we eat the cakes?" "Ach, yes, mein liebchen!" cried the motherly old soul, taking Elsie's cold little hands in hers. "Come back mit me, where is one leedle chair like yourself."

Sleep was coming to her as it does to the child who has had its long, happy day. But like the child, she would not give up until the last. It was true, he was sure, that she was loath to let the day go. "The play to-night was very nice," she said, rousing a little, "but so short-sighted." "Short-sighted, liebchen? How?" "So many things in literature stop short when the people are married.

Many things have been circling around my thoughts and I thought I might get hold of a few of them and pull them in. But I can't seem to do it. I never was much good at writing things out; it's hard to get words for things that aren't even full-born thoughts. "My work was great, liebchen great! A constant piercing of the darkness with light a letting in of more light new light.