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"Yer's yer hat," pulling an old straw article, over-worn, from Dennis's head. "No wind's a blowin' to blow hats into graveyards. Or did you set yer hat under a hen in yere, by a stiffy?" Dennis looked up, laughing, though not all at ease, but his amiable want of either intelligence or fear, which belong near together, made his most natural reply to the pertinacious intruder a disarming grin.
'So wore the years o'er-wealthy; and meseemeth that ye know How we sowed and reaped destruction, and the Day of the overthrow: How we leaned on the staff we had broken, and put our lives in the hand Of those whom we had vanquished and the feeble of the land; And these were the stone of stumbling, and the burden not to be borne, When the battle-blast fell on us and our day was over-worn.
Her poor arms were shrunken to the very bone and were not larger than a little child's. Haggard and over-worn, she was lifted up, and the silk was given to her and the glass was held before her; but her eyes were glazed with death, and she fell back exhausted.
They speak rather quickly and cheerily, and then in repose the lines come again, not that they look over-worn; on the contrary they look fit, tremendously and are very abstemious. One speaks near me "You knew so and so? Good horseman wasn't he? Curious seat do you remember the way he rode with his toes out?" "Yes, yes ha, ha! it was funny! He led a column with me at Abu Lassin.
My father, the Reverend Ezra Quibble, was, to be sure, poor enough. The salary that he received as pastor of his church was meagre to the degree of necessitating my wearing his over-worn and discarded clerical vestments, which to some extent may account for my otherwise inexplicable distaste for things ecclesiastical.
Though alas! even our prose writings, nay even the style of our more set discourses, strive to be in the fashion, and trick themselves out in the soiled and over-worn finery of the meretricious muse. It is true that of late a great improvement in this respect is observable in our most popular writers.
Its long French windows, opening on to the terrace-walk, appealed to her taste; and the crowded writing-table, on which stood a beautiful crucifix in yellow ivory. Papers and tin boxes were piled in one corner. But there was no carpet, and only one armchair, over-worn and shabby. There were flowers in vases and bowls, and, in a large cage, canaries uttered their piercing songs.
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