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Updated: May 4, 2025
It is when the sun goes down on the dark bed of the lonely Bush, and the sunset flashes like a sea of fire and then fades, and then glows out again, like a bank of coals, and then burns away to ashes it is then that old things come home to one. And strange, new-old things too, that haunt and depress you terribly, and that you can't understand.
You do not know what you have memorized, you know what you have vitalized, what you have written in the book of experience. Gussie says, "I have read it in a book." Bill Whackem says, "I know!" Reading and Knowing All of us are Christopher Columbuses, discovering the same new-old continents of Truth. That is the true happiness of life discovering Truth.
For the time being she forgot everything; her vain watching for Robert, the talk of trouble in the factory, the disappointment in her home all were forgotten in the contemplation, or rather in the absorbing, of this new-old wonder of snow.
"It's all off, as far as it affects you and me," Mackenzie said, fetching his brows together in a frown of denial. "Reid can't have you, not even if he comes into two million when the old man dies." "No," said Joan softly, her hand stroking his, her eyes downcast, the glow of the new-old dawn upon her cheek; "there's only room for one Jacob on this range."
It is for this that study of particular periods and institutions of the olden time, as of Salerno, grows increasingly interesting, because each new detail helps to fill in sympathetically the new-old picture of human activity as it may be seen at all times.
There were indeed many long and peaceful reigns, but the historians record neat little wars, seductive forays and "hostings", to use the new-old word, to the heart's content. The Irish character remained fixed in its essentials, but, under the influence of religious enthusiasm, Ireland progressed and prospered in the arts of peace.
"It's great," agreed Kirke Waldron decidedly. "Nothing could suit me better. Vacation, to me, means outdoors always. And it's a long time since I've done any tramping in the home State." "I knew you weren't one of the hammock-and-novel vacation sort," Julius said as he put his new-old friend into the trap. "I'm not myself.
I wonder if their ghosts have a sense of humour, and if they ever chuckle a little over the trick Fate played on them when they were helpless? Once established again in his new-old quarters, the I.G. went back to his former routine of life. The band-boys, scattered by the Siege, returned, one having become, all of a sudden, a hero.
Indeed, he hardly slept at all, but watched and dozed beside his little master all night long. Yet he was always cheerful. Always ready with stories and songs. When he could not remember any new-old ones, he took to inventing tales of people who were always in dangers and difficulties, but who took no notice of them, who went on their way trusting in the Truth.
"By passing it one evening at about the time for dinner, seeing the new-old bottle-panes in the leaded windows, looking down these stairs and getting a rough-drawn impression that the place was cosy, a rough-drawn impression in which the bottle-panes suggested that they had some sort of ideas in their heads, these people and the little pots of evergreen down the stairs with the ugly red frilled paper round them that made you think that they had known the country lived in it.
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