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"Now that really is a sweet little thing. Moore's isn't it?" "Not a bit of it; my own muse, every word of it." "And the music?" said I. "My own, too. Too much spice in that bowl; that's an invariable error in your devisers of drink, to suppose that the tipple you start with can please your palate to the last; they forget that as we advance, either in years or lush, our tastes simplify."
And then he thought of Linn Moore's dressing-room at the theatre; and of the paints and powder and vulgar tinsel that had to fit him out for exhibition before the footlights; and of the feverish whirl of life and the bedazzlement of popularity and fashionable petting; and somehow or other the closing lines of Mrs.
One evening, at a large dinner-party at Governor Moore's, at which were present several members of the Louisiana Legislature, Taylor, Bragg, and the Attorney-General Hyams, after the ladies had left the table, I noticed at Governor Moore's end quite a lively discussion going on, in which my name was frequently used; at length the Governor called to me, saying: "Colonel Sherman, you can readily understand that, with your brother the abolitionist candidate for Speaker, some of our people wonder that you should be here at the head of an important State institution.
It seemed that her father died two months after marriage, right in the midst of the mellow light of the honeymoon, before he had had time to drop the exstatic sweetness of courtship and newly-married bliss and come down into the ordinary, everyday, good and bad demeanors of men. And they had drawed all their knowledge of manhood from Moore's poems and Solomon's Songs.
For purity of life, honesty, and conciliatory manners, they are favorably distinguished. They have numerous temples to Fire, which they adore as the symbol of the divinity. The Persian religion makes the subject of the finest tale in Moore's "Lalla Rookh," the "Fire Worshippers." The Gueber chief says, "Yes!
Both landed at Benecia, and when we swung away from that wharf Rogers and I saluted each other with raised and swinging hats, shouted a good bye, and I have never seen him since. At Moore's Flat I found my mine well and profitably worked by Mr. Tyler and as his lease was not out I returned to San Jose, as I had learned from Rogers that Mr. A. Bennett was at Watsonville, and Mr.
He is represented seated on a Lotus flower, with his finger on his lips, as the god of Silence. In one of Moore's "Irish Melodies" is an allusion to Harpocrates: "Thyself shall, under some rosy bower, Sit mute, with thy finger on thy lip; Like him, the boy, who born among The flowers that on the Nile-stream blush, Sits ever thus, his only song To Earth and Heaven, 'Hush all, hush!"
If any one, able to point what he reads, still believes that the great Roman Bath was ever practically opened up in the last century I would refer him to Mr. Moore's able and suggestive paper, entitled 'Organisms from the recently discovered Roman Baths in Bath, read to the members of the Bath Microscopical Society, in May, 1883.
"It was you wasn't it?" he yelled. "Yes, of course it was." She might have struck him, for the way he flinched. "What was that a trick a game a play all fixed up for my benefit?" "I don't understand you," she replied. "Bah! You you white-faced cat!... I saw you! Saw you in Moore's arms!
This latitude was determined by a good meridional altitude, and the longitude by the time-keeper and lunar observations, so that there is a very considerable mistake in Hamilton Moore's chart respecting the position of these streights.
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