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Updated: April 30, 2025
Where such love is, let the differences of taste, the unfitnesses of temperament be what they may, the two must by and by be thoroughly one. Sercombe saw no reason why a gentleman should not amuse himself with any young woman he pleased. What was the chief to him! He was not his chief! If he was a big man in the eyes of his little clan, he was nothing much in the eyes of Hilary Sercombe.
He did not inform him that the animal was a special favourite with the chief of Clanruadh, or that the clan looked upon him. as their live symbol, the very stag represented as crest to the chief's coat of arms. It was the same Nancy had reported to her master as eating grass on the burn-side in the moonlight. Christian and Sercombe had stalked him day after day, but without success.
"What's been the row?" he asked. "Oh, I remember! Well, you've had the best of it!" He held out his hand in a vague sort of way, and the gesture invaded their soft hearts. Each took the hand. "I was all right about the girl though," said Sercombe. "I didn't mean her any harm." "I don't think you did," answered Alister; "and I am sure you could have done her none; but the girl did not like it."
"You are a good shot, but you need not have been so frightened at an old man as to knock him down!" "Come, come, Macruadh! enough's enough! It's time to drop this!" returned Sercombe. "I can't stand much more of it! Take ten pounds for the head! Come!" The chief made one great stride towards him, but turned away, and said, "Come along, Rob!
Palmer, however, that that morning Christina had positively refused to listen to a word more from Mr. Sercombe. In the afternoon, Alister set out for London. Mr. Peregrine Palmer brooded more and more upon what he counted the contempt of the chief. It became in him almost a fixed idea.
Sercombe speak with admiration, qualified with the remark that she was so proper they could hardly get a civil word out of her. She was in fact too scrupulously polite for their taste. It was a bright, pleasant, frosty morning, perfectly still, with an air like wine. The harvest had vanished from the fields. The sun shone on millions of tiny dew-suns, threaded on forsaken spider-webs.
Sercombe met him with a blow straight from the shoulder, and he dropped. Rob of the Angels, close behind him, threw down the gun. The devil all but got into Rob of the Angels. His knife flashed pale in the moonlight, and he darted on the Sasunnach.
The only mistake worse than thinking well of himself, is for a man to think God takes no interest in him. One evening, sorely in lack of amusement, Sercombe wandered out into a star-lit night, and along the road to the village. There he went into the general shop, where sat Annie behind the counter.
"There is not a girl of the clan, or in the neighbourhood, for whom my brother would not have done the same." said Ian. "You're a brace of woodcocks!" cried Sercombe. "It's well you're not out in the world. You would be in hot water from morning to night! I can't think how the devil you get on at all!" "Get on! Where?" asked Ian with a smile. "Come now! You ain't such fools as you want to look!
Sercombe mentions a case in which destruction of the entire palate was successfully relieved by mechanical means. In some instances among the lower classes these obturators are simple pieces of wood, so fashioned as to fit into the palatine cleft, and not infrequently the obturator has been swallowed, causing obstruction of the air-passages or occluding the esophagus. Abnormalism of the Uvula.
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