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Updated: May 28, 2025
Now kneel down, shut your eyes and open your mouths." "Don't do it. It will be some horrid, peppery mess," advised a sour-tempered freshman named Butts. But Georgia and her companion stood bravely forth, to be rewarded by two delicious mouthfuls of Madeline's French chocolate.
James turned on his heel, and made for the summer-house, leaving it to his wife to pursue the subject or not as she pleased. She did pursue the subject. "I am one of the persons, of course," she said. "Who is the other?" "An old man came on Monday." The bride's pleasant smile vanished. "What sort of person was he?" she asked. The sour-tempered woman became sourer than ever. "Oh, how can I tell!
The elder son, in his statement of the case, introduces an elaborately constructed double contrast between his brother's experience and his own, which is peculiarly interesting in relation to the mercy of God and the methods of the Gospel. To the jaundiced eye of this sour-tempered pharisaic youth, it seemed that his father gave much to him that deserved least, and little to him that deserved most: to the profligate son, the fatted calf; to the eminently dutiful child, not even a kid. Here the hard, self-satisfied formalist, like Pilate and Caiaphas, preaches the Christ whom he did not know. The envious contrast portrayed by the elder son is a dark shadow which takes its shape from the Light of life. It is a law of the Gospel that nothing is given to the man in reward for the righteousness which he brings forward as his boast; but all is given to the man who has flung away his own righteousness with loathing as filthy rags, and come, "wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked," to cast himself on the mercy of God. The greatest gift is bestowed on the most worthless; for "God commendeth his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom.
Any one else would have easily penetrated this craftiness, but Kunda was unusually simple, and easily appeased. She felt no suspicion of this new affection; she imagined Hira to be sour-tempered, but not unfaithful. The woman said "Why do you weep, Ma Thakurani?" Kunda did not speak, but only looked at Hira, who saw that her eyes were swollen and the pillow soaked.
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