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Vos you plind your eyesight in?" "Oh, I knew I couldn't hit," chuckled Bubbs, "so I got hit. That's part of the game." "Veil, mebbe dot vos so, but you don'd pelief it. Der next man vill haf something different to did." Netterby was the next man. After pitching a ball behind Net's back and another one over his head, Hans managed to get one across the pan.
"I'm not going for denying to what you say. I'm like the fish at the heel of the trawl-boat the net's closing in on me and I'm caught. The game's up. I did deceave you. I did write those letters myself. I've no Uncle Joe, nor no Auntie Joney neither. My wife's left me. I'm not knowing where she is, or what's becoming of her. I'm done, and I'm for throwing up the sponge."
The future of the Internet in general I see as becoming more popular and yet more fraught with conflict over the growth of commercialism and the perception that the Net's devolutionary spirit has been undermined. There will also be a need to deal with a glut of information already we see Internet search engines reinventing themselves to try to provide a more optimal and efficient portal."
Then it was drawn out and at once thrown upward again, if no capture had been made. In case he had taken fish, he came to the inshore edge of his platform, and upset the net's contents into a pool separated from the main rapid by an improvised wall of stones. "I'm too old for scoop some now," said Ma'ame Paradis, with a sigh. "You were never strong enough to scoop, surely," said I. "No, eh?
Tilda, yer net's 'alf 'angin' off you don't want yer sweet-'eart to see you all untidy like that, do you? 'Elp 'em, Polly my dear, and be quick about it! H'out with yer sewin', chicks!" Sprung up from their seats the three girls darted to and fro. The telltale spelling and copy-books were flung into the drawer of the chiffonier, and the key was turned on them.
In the night, the sound of its soft breathing is wafted over the slumbering sea, and this infinite murmur fills the soul with peace, checks all unworthy impulses and brings forth mighty dreams. "The nets, where are they, eh?" suddenly asked Gavrilo, inspecting the boat. Tchelkache shuddered. "There's the net, at the rudder." "What kind of a net's that?" asked Gavrilo, suspiciously.
When I read, therefore, that an apostle is a fisher of men, I shall think of the selecting, discriminating method of casting a hook into the water; and when I learn from this parable that the separation between the good and bad of the net's contents upon the shore represents the separation between good and bad men by the ministry of angels in the unseen world, I am not compelled I am not permitted to believe, contrary to all analogy, that the Church encloses all, like the net, without an effort, a hope, a desire to discriminate, and that the ministers of the Church, like the fishermen, drag their brothers unwilling out of the world to the judgment-seat.
He is now spreading his net, and will ye not come about the net's mouth, that a catch of you may be gotten. He is proclaiming unto you that He hath invincible power, though managed by apparent weakness. Oh, find you any of this irresistible power of Christ? Oh, come unto Him who is the joy of heaven, and it shall be a joyful time in heaven.
"Your fancy is surely alive tonight, Sol," said Henry, "and I believe the thought of Braxton Wyatt's disappointment later on is what has stirred it up so much." "I 'low you're right, Henry, but I'm thinkin' 'bout the grief o' that villain, Blackstaffe, too. Oh, he'll be a terrible sorrowful man when the net's closed, an' he finds thar's nothin' in it.
"Nay, I've said all I need, and maybe more than I should." "Doth Master Clere go now to mass, Bessy?" "Oh, ay, as regular as any man in the town, and the mistress belike. The net's drawing closer, Rose. The time will soon come when even you and I, low down as we are, shall have to make choice, with death at the end of one way." "Ay, I'm afeard so," said Rose gravely.
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