Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 14, 2025
"But Sir Derek has his own money, hasn't he? I mean, it's not like when Sir Courtenay Travers fell in love with the milk-maid and was dependent on his mother, the Countess, for everything. Sir Derek can afford to do what he pleases, can't he?" Parker shook his head tolerantly.
The profane history of our own country tells us that a princess, destined to be the greatest queen that ever sat on this throne, envied the milk-maid singing; and a profane poet, whose wisdom was only less than that of the inspired writers, represents the man who, by force and wit, had risen to be a king sighing for the sleep vouchsafed to the meanest of his subjects, all bearing out the words of the son of David, 'The sleep of the labouring man is sweet, whether he eat little or much; but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to sleep.
His voice had been so low that Lewis had understood not a word. "I have brought you here," said Leighton again, and this time clearly, "to tell you about your mother." Lewis restrained himself from looking at his father's face. "Your mother's name," went on Leighton, "was Jeanette O'Reilly. She was a milk-maid.
The profane history of our own country tells us that a princess, destined to be the greatest queen that ever sat on this throne, envied the milk-maid singing; and a profane poet, whose wisdom was only less than that of the inspired writers, represents the man who, by force and wit, had risen to be a king sighing for the sleep vouchsafed to the meanest of his subjects, all bearing out the words of the son of David, 'The sleep of the labouring man is sweet, whether he eat little or much; but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to sleep.
"Yes, inquisitive; I told you he is called Bernard." "Bernard! And nothing else?" "Nothing, for the present. What are you looking at?" "He is sleeping like a dormouse. Look at the booby. I was wondering whether he resembled M. le Chevalier. Perhaps it was a momentary error a fit of forgetfulness with some milk-maid." "Come, come, Leblanc; you are going too far . . ."
"I'd marry some milk-maid and keep her down on the property. I'd see that it was all done legally, and I'd take the kid away when he was three or four years old." "Everybody would talk about it." "Let 'em talk," said Dick heroically. "They couldn't talk you out of your ease or your pleasure or your money. I never could find out the harm of people talking about you.
In the Second Reader we find the story of the idle boy who talked with the bees, dogs, and horses, and having found them all busy, reformed himself; of the kind girl who shared her cake with a dog and an old man; of the mischievous boys who tied the grass across the path and thus upset not only the milk-maid but the messenger running for a doctor to come to their father; of the wise lark who knew that the farmer's grain would not be cut until he resolved to cut it himself; of the wild and ravenous bear that treed a boy and hung suspended by his boot; and of another bear that traveled as a passenger by night in a stage coach; of the quarrelsome cocks, pictured in a clearly English farm yard, that were both eaten up by the fox that had been brought in by the defeated cock; of the honest boy and the thief who was judiciously kicked by the horse that carried oranges in baskets; of George Washington and his historic hatchet and the mutilated cherry-tree; and of the garden that was planted with seeds in lines spelling Washington's name which removed all doubt as to an intelligent Creator.
One piece of sculpture I remember, a carving of a cow, a milk-maid, and a monk, in reference to the legend that the site of the cathedral was, in some way, determined by a woman bidding her cow go home to Dunholme. Cadmus was guided to the site of his destined city in some such way as this.
His Gallic gallantry, with the gift of a trinket or ribbon, made him welcome with simple milk-maid or pert house "slavey," and the dapper little Frenchman was already an established favorite in the wine-room of the Hotel Bellevue.
A busy city darting o'er the plains Across the turnpikes and through hawthorne lanes, O'er wide morasses and profound ravines Through stately woods where red deer only run, And grassy lawn and farmer's planted field Was that swift train that flashed along the hills, And smoked through sloping valleys, and surprised The mild-eyed milk-maid with her morning pail.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking