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Updated: October 1, 2024
She is Adlerstein herself by birth, married her cousin, and is prouder and more dour than our old Freiherr himself fitter far to handle shield than swaddled babe. And now our Jungfrau has fallen into a pining waste, that 'tis a pity to see how her cheeks have fallen away, and how she mopes and fades. Now, the old Freiherr and her brother, they both dote on her, and would do anything for her.
There are grandfather and grandmother, whom you meet at the St. Nicholas fête. All the children are with them. It is so mild, they have brought even the baby. The poor little creature is swaddled very much after the manner of an Egyptian mummy; but it can crow with delight, and, when the band is playing, open and shut its animated mittens in perfect time to the music.
"Sables?" asked Miss Mapp parenthetically, to complete the picture. "Swaddled. Talked to them. Train came in. Woman got out. Kissed Mr. Wyse. Shook hands with Susan. Both hands. While luggage was got out." "Much?" asked Miss Mapp quickly. "Hundreds. Covered with coronets and Fs. Two cabs." Miss Mapp's mind, on a hot scent, went back to the previous telegraphic utterance.
Summoning my manful resolution, I made the attempt to step across the children swaddled in matting and straw and old gowns or petticoats. The necessity for doing it with a rush seized me after the first step. I pitched over one little bundle, right on to the figure of a sleeping woman.
"Wait while I put on my bonnet," she said, as she ran past Reuben into the house. Reuben blushed a little deeper yet, and knelt over his violin-case on the grass, where he swaddled the instrument as if it had been a baby, and bestowed it in its place with unusual care and solicitude. "Reuben," said his uncle, as the young man arose, "that's a thing as never should be done."
Only, when the body of Sebastian was found, apparently not long after death, a child lay asleep, swaddled warmly in his heavy furs, in an upper room of the old tower, to which the tide was almost risen; though the building still stood firmly, and still with the means of life in plenty.
Close at her side is the infant prince, Francesco Sforza, with his baby face and swaddled clothes; while opposite, kneeling at his father's side, is the handsome little Count of Pavia. Here, at least, there is no doubt that we have authentic portraits of both Lodovico Sforza and Beatrice d'Este, the reigning Duke and Duchess of Milan, towards the close of the year 1495.
This is expressly commanded by Mahomet: "Let the mother suckle her child full two years, if the child does not quit the breast; but she shall be permitted to wean it, with the consent of her husband." The harem is the cradle and school of infancy. The new born feeble being is not there swaddled and filletted up in a swathe, the source of a thousand diseases.
That was all she knew for a moment, and then, it was as if something else were given back to her. No, it was not a dream! It was substance. In her arms was a little swaddled baby, in her ears its feeble wail, mingled with the glad shout of little Humfrey, as he scrambled from the cradle to be uplifted in his father's arms.
In spite of the cold, we astonished the entire swaddled population by taking off our clothes, and bathing in a little crystal stream close by: two operations, in all probability, which they themselves had never perpetrated within the memory of the oldest inhabitant, This feat accomplished, we were much astonished by the arrival of a RARA AVIS, in the shape of a British traveller, from the direction of Ladak.
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