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"Under the circumstances," thought I, "I sincerely hope that the paths of Hippopopolis and myself may lie as wide as the poles apart. If so be we do again tread the same path, I trust I shall see him in time to be able to ignore his presence." With this reflection I made my way with difficulty up the side of Olympus.
By a similar procedure the problems of conduct which defy solution by conscious thought will frequently yield to autosuggestion. When we are "at our wits' ends," as the saying goes, to discover the best path out of a dilemma, when choice between conflicting possibilities seems impossible, it is worse than useless to continue the struggle.
From our left as it seemed some distance away, came the short sharp reports of the trench mortars, but presently, as we walked on, guns just behind us and below us, began to boom over our heads, and we heard again the long-drawn scream or swish of the shells, rushing on their deadly path to search out the back of the enemy's lines in the haze yonder, and flinging confusion on his lines of communication, his supplies and reserves.
At Horner village the road winds round to Luccombe, but a broad path follows the course of the Horner and leads up through the woods. The scenery is comparable with that of the E. Lynn. It is a delightful combination of wood, mountain, and rill, and is everywhere full of charm. The Horner Water descends from the moors and babbles its way through the valley to the sea.
"I can come back?" she said. "I shall not prevent you." She heard the smile in his voice, and something within her thrilled in answer. "Let us go then!" she said. He turned without further words and led the way. They entered the shadow of the jungle once more. For a space the path ran beside the crumbling wall, then it diverged from it, winding darkly into the very heart of the jungle.
Speke was on his road from the South, and I felt confident that my gallant friend would leave his bones upon the path rather than submit to failure. I trusted that England would not be beaten, and although I hardly dared to hope that I could succeed where others greater than I had failed, I determined to sacrifice all in the attempt.
Porter insisted upon finishing the Little Chicken series, so that 'deserve' is a poor word for any honour that might accrue to him for his part in the book." This was the nucleus of the book, but the story itself originated from the fact that one day, while leaving the swamp, a big feather with a shaft over twenty inches long came spinning and swirling earthward and fell in the author's path.
After a rest we followed down a path which had been made in the steep inner frontage of the moraine, and stepped upon the glacier itself. One of the shows of the place was a tunnel-like cavern, which had been hewn in the glacier. The proprietor of this tunnel took candles and conducted us into it. It was three or four feet wide and about six feet high.
But when reason is concerned with the rational, and the circle of the same moving smoothly declares it, then intelligence and knowledge are necessarily perfected; where, proceeding in a similar path of contemplation, he supposes the inward and the outer world mutually to imply each other.
How could she endure them in future, yet how reject without wounding him? One, and only one path of escape presented itself a path of measureless joy. She lifted her hands, and murmured "Russell! Russell! save me from this!" When Mr. and Mrs.
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