United States or Guyana ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Forfeit! forfeit!" the girls cried. She looked her costume over with alarm, asking, "What can I give?" "A hair pin," Dick advised; and one of her turtleshell hair pins joined his hat in Lute's lap. "Bother it!" she exclaimed, when the last of her hair pins had gone the same way, she having failed seven times to Dick's once. "I can't see why I should be so slow and stupid.
There were tears in Chris's eyes as he turned abruptly away, and tears in Lute's eyes as they met his. She was silent in her sympathy, though the pressure of her hand was firm in his as he walked beside her horse down the dusty road. "It was done deliberately," Chris burst forth suddenly. "There was no warning. He deliberately flung himself over backward." "There was no warning," Lute concurred.
Colton write to you for?" "He says he wants to see me." "See you? What for?" "Don't know. Perhaps he wants to borrow money." "Borrow ! I believe you're crazy!" "No, I'm tolerably sane. There! there! don't look at me like that. Here's his letter. Read it, if you want to." Lute's fingers were so eager to grasp that letter that they were all thumbs.
Lute's undertaking had not been a success and he sought his bed, sodden and bloodshot of eye. He was nursing grudges of varying degrees against Jase Mallows, Alexander, Halloway and finally against Bud Sellers. He kicked off his brogans and as he leaned to blow out the light, he stumbled, sprawling headlong and carrying the lamp down with him.
And there are emotions of which the body may be yet more eloquent than the face; there was the figure of Watts's "Hope" drooping over as she drooped, not more lissom and speaking than her own; just then it caught my eye, and on the spot it was as though the lute's last string of that sweet masterpiece had vibrated aloud in Catherine's room.
"Good-by, Boy." I went out through the dining room and kitchen, to the back yard, where, seating myself on Lute's favorite resting place, the wash bench, I lit my pipe and sat thinking, gloomily thinking. It is a dreadful thing to hate one's own father; to hate him and be unable to forgive him even though he is dead, although he paid for his sin with his life.
"This form of democracy," says Aristotle, "existed among the shepherds and husbandmen of Arcadia;" and was probably not uncommon with the ancient Pelasgians. But the myrioi of Arcadia had not the legislative power. "Then to the lute's soft voice prolong the night, Music, the banquet's most refined delight." Pope's Odyssey, book xxi., 473. It is stronger in the original
"Spirits moving musically To a lute's well-ordered law," The Haunted Palace, by Edgar A. Poe. do we not read the placid significance thereof in the human countenance? "I have seen," said Charles Lamb, "faces upon which the dove of peace sat brooding."
Thus, the first time, she did match him, both his and her hands being closed, whereupon he took off his hat and tossed it into Lute's lap. "My forfeit," he explained. "Come on, Paul, again." And again they sang and clapped: "Jong-Keena, Jong-Keena, Jong-Jong, Keena-Keena, Yo-ko-ham-a, Nag-a-sak-i, Kobe-mar-o hoy!!!" This time, with the hoy, her hands were closed and his were open.
If his neck was broke the whole of Wall Street would go to pot." "Wall Street? What in the world has Lute got to do with Wall Street?" "Lute! Oh, I see! Yes, Lute's been doing considerable talking, but it ain't his neck I mean. Say, Ros, what did you do to him, anyway? You stirred him up some, judging by what he said to me." "Who said? What?" "Why, Colton. He was in here yesterday.
Word Of The Day