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"If you print that," he thundered, "Mr. Hallowell will sue your paper for half a million dollars. Can't you see the damage you would do? Can't your people see that if the idea got about that he was unable to direct his own affairs, that he was in the hands of mediums, it would invalidate everything he does?

The stone itself, its ancient look, half-hidden in many cases by ivy, and clothed over in many-coloured moss and lichen and aerial algae, and the stonecutter's handiwork, his lettering, and the epitaphs he revelled in all this is lost when you take the inscription away and print it.

And how if we manage finally to print one of our pages on the crow-scalp of that solitary majestic outsider?

Again, the temporal power of the Pope is very useful to the Church; for with the money and goods received from his possessions the Holy Father can educate priests and teachers, print books, etc., for the foreign missions. He can also support churches, school, and institutions in poor countries, and especially where the missionaries are laboring for the conversion of the native heathens.

It cost him but five crowns, he said, to print 'four hundred copies of it; but those in whose name it was published got one hundred crowns by its sale. The English ambassador was unwilling to be known as the author although "desirous of touching up the impudence of the Spaniard" but the King had no doubt of its origin.

She died very unobtrusively of an affection of the heart, one June morning, while trimming her rose trellis, and her lavender-colored print was not even rumpled when she fell, nor were more than the tips of her little bronze slippers visible.

They would have a little supper, and then.... He pictured the bedroom. He would let Julie go first. He remembered reading in a novel how some newly married wife said to the fellow: "You'll come up in half an hour or so, won't you, dear?" He could all but see the words in print.

A common fellow, a carpenter, who, on the strength of political partisanship, asked B 's assistance in cutting out great letters from play-bills in order to print "Martin Van Buren Forever" on a flag; but B refused.

Rose suddenly thought of something and perhaps it was not a foolish idea at that. "Oh, Mammy!" she cried, "can your boy read newspaper print?" "Sure can. De big print. What yo' call de haidlines in big print. Sure can." "Oh!" murmured Rose, and she dragged Russ away to confer with him in secret. Rose Bunker's idea was too good to tell in general.

Yet the question, as asked, does her a heavy historical injustice; we remember all the lines in her work which were weak enough to be called "womanly," we forget the multitude of strong lines that are strong enough to be called "manly"; lines that Kingsley or Henley would have jumped for joy to print in proof of their manliness.