Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: July 16, 2025
A picture of toilworn age, of the inevitable end of all mortal labour, he had sat for hours in the faint sunshine, smiling with his sunken, babyish mouth at the brood of white turkeys that crowded about the well. "Well, she's Reuben Merryweather's granddaughter, suh," replied Solomon in the place of the elder.
He was a tall, raw-boned, sandy-haired lad of seventeen, with stooping shoulders, slouching figure, big feet and toilworn hands. His large-featured, freckled face was kept from commonplaceness by its frank gray eyes, broad brow, firm chin and refined mouth. "Try an' mek out yer suppah, suh," Mrs. Rogers urged as she handed Dudley a cup of steaming coffee.
First, the toilworn Craftsman that with earth-made Implement laboriously conquers the Earth, and makes her man's. Venerable to me is the hard Hand; crooked, coarse; wherein notwithstanding lies a cunning virtue, indefeasibly royal, as of the Sceptre of this Planet.
Except for a certain ease of manner which she had not lost in the drudgery of her life, she might have been sister to the toilworn slattern he had noticed in one of the hovels across the country. "We shall be very glad to have you," she said, with quiet dignity. "It is ready now, I think." "Be sure to make him try the port, Cynthia," called Mrs.
England has thousands of other women who are lapped in an enervating and degrading luxury without occupation, with none but frivolous cares who fancy themselves infinitely superior to their poor, slaving, ill-dressed, and toilworn sisters. These disparities are as great as any that existed in the "infamous" days of pagan Rome.
In Sartor Resartus, he specially honors "the toilworn Craftsman, that with earthmade implement laboriously conquers the Earth and makes her Man's." Carlyle had a large fund of incisive wit and humor, which often appear in picturesque setting, as when he said to a physician: "A man might as well pour his sorrows into the long hairy ear of a jackass."
One bright warm noonday in May of the year 1638, Goodwife Pepperell opened the door of her little log cabin, and, screening her eyes from the sun with a toilworn hand, looked about in every direction, as if searching for some one. She was a tall, spare woman, with a firm mouth, keen blue eyes, and a look of patient endurance in her face, bred by the stern life of pioneer New England.
That gentleman appeared to be still engaged upon the promoting business, although by no means so profitably as heretofore. He went into the City every day, and came home in the evening toilworn and out of spirits.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking