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Updated: June 29, 2025
Stokes's, the milliner's, last night, she may receive an answer to her questions from the bearer; who, being no scholar, hopes she will not take no offence at the shortness of these lines, but satisfy him in the honour of drinking tea with her, who waits below stairs for an answer."
One finds it in Italy almost in the same form as in the original French by the Princesse de Beaumont, from whom it has got into the ordinary fairy books of England, France and Germany. See Crane II., "Zelinda and the Monster," pp. 7-11, with note 6, p. 324, which contain a reference to Miss Stokes's Indian Fairy Tales, p. 292.
As Zeke says, I'm a wolf sure enough; but as soon's the beast's hunger is satisfied, I'll rub that leg of yours till you'll want to dance a jig;" and with the ladle wrung from Stokes's reluctant hand, he began stirring the seething contents of the kettle. Then little Hi Woodbridge piped in his shrill voice, "Another cheer for our assistant cook and ditch-digger!
Despite the fact that he left two hours earlier, the day passed but slowly, and he was in a very despondent state of mind by the time he reached Mr. Stokes's lodging. The latter, however, had cheerfulness enough for both, and, after helping his visitor to change into fresh clothes and part his hair in the middle instead of at the side, surveyed him with grinning satisfaction.
He had even successfully crossed blades with Mr. Stokes's own best brand of Damascene gray matter. And he had won the fray, for the everlasting good and happiness of all parties concerned. In anticipation he already felt himself thrilling proudly beneath the crown of Bettina's love and her father's benediction.
Battle was an enterprising man with whom the Dean's first acquaintance had arisen through the Tallowaxes and the stable interests, a very clever man, and perhaps a little sharp. But an attorney ought to be sharp, and it is not to be understood that Mr. Battle descended to sharp practice. But he was a solicitor with whom the old-fashioned Mr. Stokes's would not find themselves in accord.
But to return to Professor Stokes's excursion in the region of Biblical exegesis. Never have we met with anything more puerile and absurd. He finds "soul" and "spirit" in the English Bible, and he supposes them to be different things.
"Admit Detective Sergeant Stokes at eight-twenty-six, and then lock the door." "Very good, sir." Hoskins retired imperturbably. Detective Sergeant Stokes was a big, dark, florid man, the word "constable" written all over him. Indeed, as Wessex had complained more than once, the mere sound of Stokes's footsteps was a danger signal for any crook.
And Jack's hand, inside Mr. Stokes's beautiful, tall collar, shook Bertie back and forth till his teeth chattered like castanets, and his good-looking pink face grew more and more like a large, boiled beetroot. I had seen Jack coming, long enough to have counted ten before he came. But I didn't count ten. I just let him come. Bertie could not speak: he could only gurgle.
Stokes's comment upon many widely published defenses of the Milwaukee Socialists by anti-Socialists was published in a letter to the New York World which sums up admirably the International standpoint: "It is surely public opinion out of office and not the party in office," wrote Mr.
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