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Updated: May 10, 2025
While I was hesitating I own it! whether I had not better immerse Pugh's puzzle in a can of water, or throw it out of the window, or call down Bob with a request to at once remove it to his apartment, both the tick, tick, tick, and the screeching ceased, and all within the box was still. If it was going to explode, it was now or never. Instinctively I moved in the direction of the door.
We talked of Welsh poetry; he said he had not dipped much into it, owing to its difficulty; that he was master of the colloquial language of Wales, but understood very little of the language of Welsh poetry, which was a widely different thing. I asked him whether he had seen Owen Pugh's translation of Paradise Lost.
There was something else amid that ruin besides those springs; there was a small piece of writing paper. I took it up. On the reverse side of it was written in a minute, crabbed hand: "A Present For You." What was a present for me? I looked, and, not for the first time since I had caught sight of Pugh's precious puzzle, could scarcely believe my eyes.
"I am fond of languages," said I, "and studied Welsh at an early period." "And you read Welsh poetry?" "Oh yes." "How were you enabled to master its difficulties?" "Chiefly by going through Owen Pugh's version of 'Paradise Lost' twice, with the original by my side.
Fielding come in. He drove back and left the horse at Mr. Pugh's stable." "Had he been drinking?" Mary Cary got up from the arm of the chair, her face incredulous. "Drinking? No, he hadn't been drinking. That is, I don't suppose he had. How could I tell?
Pugh's command remained still until the lines, advancing over the open field, were near. Then rising, they poured in a volley, and continued firing into the smoke until no bullets were heard whistling back from the front.
Thus, when, at a 'reunion' at Laburnum Grove, she had been looking on with intense disgust while Tom was admiring Mrs. 'Of course you are a collector too, Miss Ward; I can secure some duplicates for you. She hoard such fooleries? She have Mrs. Pugh's duplicates? No wonder she coldly answered, 'My little sister has been slightly infected, thank you, but I do not care for such things. 'Indeed!
Jackson saw that his enemy had made a fatal mistake, and that his earthworks, skilfully and strongly constructed as they were, were no more than a snare and a delusion. Ashby had already moved to New Market; and a strong cordon of pickets extended along Pugh's Run near Woodstock, within sight of the Federal outposts, and cutting off all communication between Strasburg and the Upper Valley.
Pugh's to see the poor little dears, said Averil, the cloud returning that had been for a moment dispelled. 'What's the row? asked Leonard, kindly. 'Has he been bothering you? 'He wants me to sound Mary May about an invitation for Mrs. Pugh to Mrs. Rivers's volunteer entertainment. I am glad I did not say no one in mourning ought to go, for I must go now you are a volunteer.
Borrow had learned the language of the bards "chiefly by going through Owen Pugh's version of 'Paradise Lost' twice" with the original by his side. Captain Borrow's thoughts were frequently occupied with the future of his younger son, a problem that had by no means been determined by signing the articles that bound him to Simpson & Rackham.
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