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He saw how boys as poor and friendless as himself had had to bear hardship and unkindness, and how they had fought their way onward, through all difficulties, to success and freedom, and his own resolve grew stronger every day. Now and then Mrs. Fowley would order him to be off out of her way, and when this happened in the evening he gladly went to Paddy's lodgings.
There, it's the rope that you'll swing by, so you'll find it hard to break." While Tom was being bound he cast a look of fierce anger on Westly, who still lay prostrate and insensible on the ground, despite Paddy's efforts to rouse him. "I hope he is killed," muttered Tom between his teeth. "Och! no fear of him, he's not so aisy kilt," said Flinders, looking up. "Bad luck to ye for wishin' it."
Some dreadful suspicions came over Paddy's mind when he heard this, and his fears were not allayed when he heard a loud chattering, and presently Queerface, with Polly and Nelly, appeared at the open window, the former with the missing wig on his head and the dressing-gown over his shoulders.
He spent that night browsing not far from Paddy's pond. With the coming of daylight he lay down in a thicket of young hemlock-trees near the upper end of the pond. It was a quiet, peaceful day. It was so quiet and peaceful and beautiful it was hard to believe that hunters with terrible guns were searching the Green Forest for beautiful Lightfoot.
She was always falling off and breaking away in every way but the right one, and wanting to go just in the very opposite direction, to what we did; exactly like Paddy's pig when he's taking it to market, and he has to whisper in its ear that he's going to Cork, when he really wants to meet the dealer at Bandon!
He may not be so badly scared, after all. I'll just find a good place and wait." So the hunter found an old log behind some small trees and there sat down. He could see all around Paddy's pond. He sat perfectly still. He was a clever hunter and he knew that so long as he did not move he was not likely to be noticed by any sharp eyes that might come that way.
Still, Sourdough was a veritable wolf in combat, and for so long as he could prevent a breach of the peace Dick decided he would do so. Accordingly, while in barracks, Jan was kept pretty closely to sentinel duty in Paddy's stall.
This may seem like an extract from "Paddy's Philosophy," but it makes it clear that consciousness can only be attained by the recognition of something which is not the recognizing ego itself in other words consciousness is the realization of some particular sort of relation between the cognizing subject and the cognized object; but I want to get away from academical terms into the speech of human beings, so let us take the illustration of a broom and its handle the two together make a broom; that is one sort of relation; but take the same stick and put a rake-iron at the end of it and you have an altogether different implement.
After a moment or two he stole softly up to the top of a little ridge some distance back from Paddy's pond, but from the top of which he could see the whole of the pond. There he hid among some close-growing young hemlock-trees. It wasn't long before he saw a hunter with a terrible gun come down to the shore of the pond. Now the hunter had heard Paddy slap the water with his broad tail. Of course.
"Let us have a mayflower picnic tomorrow to celebrate Paddy's safe return."
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