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"Shut the mosquito nettin' door tight behind you, so's to keep the flies out; it ain't fly time yet, but I want you to start right; take your parcel along with you and then you won't have to come down for it; always make your head save your heels. Rub your feet on that braided rug; hang your hat and cape in the entry as you go past." "It's my best hat," said Rebecca.

"Samuel, stay where you are till the close of school. And let me tell you, scholars, that I asked Rebecca to stand by the pail only to break up this habit of incessant drinking, which is nothing but empty-mindedness and desire to walk to and fro over the floor. Every time Rebecca has asked for a drink to-day the whole school has gone to the pail like a regiment.

Oh! Maybe she's got mar " "Rhoda!" cautioned the minister. This is the letter Rebecca Mary read: "Dear Rebecca Mary, You see I know your name from your aunt. She talked about you all the time, but I am writing you of my own accord. She does not know it. I think you will like to know that at last we are feeling very hopeful about your aunt.

Here Sir Thomas laughingly told Rebecca, that he did put more faith in what these old writers did tell of the magic arts of the sweet-singing sirens, and of Circe and her enchantments, and of the Illyrian maidens, so wonderful in their beauty, who did kill with their looks such as they were angry with. "It was, perhaps, for some such reason," said Rebecca, "that, as Mr.

"God's will be done!" said Rebecca; "I put my trust in Him, to whom an instant is as effectual to save as a whole age." "Thou hast spoken well, damsel," said the Grand Master; "but well know we who can array himself like an angel of light. It remains but to name a fitting place of combat, and, if it so hap, also of execution. Where is the Preceptor of this house?"

Her arrival in Gotham, she dreams, is a great event. Indeed, a whole column and a half of the very conservative and highly respectable old Observer is taken up with an elaborate and well-written history of her many virtues. The venerable old lady dreams herself into dusky evening, and wakes to find old Rebecca summoning her to tea. She is exceedingly sorry the old slave disturbed her.

White relates in her "Life:" "'The first thing, she said, 'the poor people did when they got their tents was to assemble on the grass, and all, kneeling, adore our Master for his mercy; and every morning sun finds them repeating their praises. In a letter to her sister- in-law she describes their sufferings under the 'plague' in the following golden words: "'Rebecca, I cannot sleep; the dying and the dead possess my mind babies expiring at the empty breast of their mother.

He began counting the eggs. "Be you gone crazy?" "Never mind," whispered Rebecca. "That's too much sugar for the eggs. Mother didn't expect so much. Don't say any more about it, William." Her face was quite steady and self-possessed now, as she looked at William, frowning heavily over the eggs. "Give Rebecca two pounds of sugar for the eggs, father, and call it square," Rose called out.

"See here, uncle Jerry and aunt Sarah, would you write another verse, especially for a last one, as they usually do one with 'thoughts' in it to make a better ending?" "If you can grind 'em out jest by turnin' the crank, why I should say the more the merrier; but I don't hardly see how you could have a better endin'," observed Mr. Cobb. "It is horrid!" grumbled Rebecca.

The memory of old days had been evoked, and the daily life of a pious and venerated father called to mind; the Sawyer name had been publicly dignified and praised; Rebecca had comported herself as the granddaughter of Deacon Israel Sawyer should, and showed conclusively that she was not "all Randall," as had been supposed.