The young "Corinthian" owns his yacht, and lives in it a great part of the summer. He is the first to make his appearance after the rainy season has begun to subside, and the last to be driven into winter quarters at Oakland or Antioch, where the fleet is moored during four or five months of the year.

She nodded. "He's the worst of the lot," Rolfe said angrily. "If it weren't for him, we'd have this strike won to-day. He owns this town, he's run it to suit himself, He stiffens up the owners and holds the other mills in line. He's a type, a driver, the kind of man we must get rid of. Look at him he lives in luxury while his people are starving." "Get rid of!" repeated Janet, in an odd voice.

He had proposed to organize the human race with materials furnished by the senses alone, and by the aid of positive science. He owns his fault, and conceives and brings forth a new Christianity, consigned to a small pamphlet entitled 'Nouveau Christianisme, which was immediately published. This done, his mission was ended, and he died May 19th, 1825, and I suppose was buried.

To Lord Brouncker, and got him to read over my paper, who owns most absolute content in it, and the advantages I have in it, and the folly of the Surveyor. At noon home to dinner; and then to Brooke-house, and there spoke with Colonell Thomson, I by order carrying them our Contract-books, from the beginning to the end of the late war.

"You are planning to combine and control the manufacture of cotton " "Yes." "But how about your raw material? The steel trust owns its iron mines." "Of course mines could be monopolized and hold the trust up; but our raw material is perfectly safe farms growing smaller, farms isolated, and we fixing the price. It's a cinch." "Are you sure?" Taylor surveyed him with a narrowed look. "Certain."

Master Chipchase's knees gave from under him. "And your honours please," he cried piteously, "I killed the lamb, but 'twas at Mr. Grafton Carvel's order, who was in town with his Excellency." Carvel's custom, there is twelve pounds odd gone a year, your honours. And I am a poor man, sirs." "Who is it owns your shop, my man?" asks Mr. Bordley, very sternly.

The state in Germany owns railroads, telegraph and telephone lines; operates mines and certain industries, and both controls and directly helps certain large manufactories which are either of benefit to the state, or which, if they were entirely independent, might prove a danger to the state.

He can get more. My father owns the show." "No, no," he cried. "I can't take his supper. I am not hungry." But she smiled and flew away, disappearing behind the flap at his left: a fluttering red fairy she might have been. He never forgot that first radiant, enveloping smile. "It is all right, my boy," said the girl's mother, also smiling. "You are hungry.

Every man who went into the enterprise with Hill now owns his stock in it as a free gift, for in the intervening years, the cost has been returned to him in the shape of dividends and bonuses. It has never failed to pay regular dividends, and has, perhaps, won public confidence more surely than any other in the country.

In other words, we've been saying in the paper what an out-size in scugs the merchant must be who owns those tenements, in the hope that somebody else will agree with us and be sufficiently interested to get to work and find out who the blighter is. That's all wrong.