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In Congress they sat and loafed with the soles of their boots turned up for the inspection of the ladies in the galleries. Their language and gestures as they expectorated hither and thither were often as coarse as their positions, while they ranted about the "laws and Constitution," and cracked their slave-whips over the heads of the dough-faces sent from the Northern States.
And then these two women, invalid mother and impatient daughter-in-law elect, were drawn closely together by tidings of Percy's illness, Percy's careful nursing, etc., then of Percy's slow convalescence. They could not go to him, because Mrs. Davies was far too feeble. Almira raved about going, wanted to go, wept, implored, and ranted, but her father was implacable and Mrs. Davies opposed.
Lidderdale's temple had never throbbed so remarkably as while Mark was reading this letter. "A fine thing," he ranted, "if this story gets about in Slowbridge. A fine reward for all my kindness if you ruin my school. As for this man Ogilvie, I'll sue him for damages. Don't look at me with that expression of bestial defiance. Do you hear? What prevents my thrashing you as you deserve?
They were the toilers the men whose lot was pitied the victims wept over and ranted about by altruists and economists; and how gladly he would have taken up the load of any one of them, if only he might have shaken off his own! But, no the iron circle of consciousness held them too: each one was hand-cuffed to his own hideous ego. Why wish to be any one man rather than another?
Martin theatre, and the hall of the College de France, were mostly frequented by moderate Republicans, and attempts were often made there to discuss the situation in a sensible manner. But folly, even insanity, reigned at many of the other clubs, where men like Felix Pyat, Auguste Blanqui, Charles Delescluze, Gustave Flourens, and the three Ms Megy, Mottu, and Milliere raved and ranted.
For her I sighed, I panted; I saw her in my dreams; I vowed, protested, ranted; I sent her chocolate creams. Until methought one morning I seemed to hear a voice, A still, small voice of warning. "Does JONES approve your choice?" To JONES of my affection I spoke that very night.
I must not forget to remark that at every post where we changed horses and drivers, we had a pitched battle with the driver for more money than we had been told was the regular rate, and the carriage was surrounded with a perfect mob of ragged, shock-headed, black-eyed people, whose words all ended in "ino," and who raved and ranted at us till finally we paid much more than we ought, to get rid of them.
Opposition met him, of course; not so much the ponderous laziness of Peter's time as an opposition, polite and elastic, which never ranted and never stood up for then Nicholas would have throttled it and stamped upon it. But it did its best to entangle his reason and thwart his action.
So, in her desperation, she "spoke pieces" to this man whose face was a gray mask, just as the girls had done at her school in Winnipeg. Often, at night camps, she had recited for her father. If she had no dramatic talent, at least she had a sweet, clear voice, an earnestness that never ranted, and some native or acquired skill in handling inflections. "Do you like Shakespeare?" she asked.
Opposition met him, of course, not so much the ponderous laziness of Peter's time as an opposition polite and elastic, which never ranted and never stood up, for then Nicholas would have throttled it and stamped upon it. But it did its best to entangle his reason and thwart his action.
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