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Updated: May 19, 2025
In the old Jonesville meetin'-house now, when Elder Minkley is a-preachin' on Jonah and you know he trots him out a dozen times a year as a warnin' how you and I could lift up our heads and tost 'em, and how the necks of the Jonesvillians would be craned round to look at us we two, who had rid out in a whale we had been right there, and knew how it wuz."
Take light spungy fine white French-bread, cut only the crusts into tosts. Tost them exceeding dry before the fire, so that they be yellow. Then put them hot into a hot dish, and pour upon them some very good strong broth, boiling hot.
I thought of Robert Emmet, and that last speech of his before Lord Norbury; I thought of Tommy Moore, and his amatory verses: I thought of Curran, Grattan, Plunket, and O'Connell; I thought of my uncle's ostler, Patrick Flinnigan; and I thought of the shipwreck of the gallant Albion, tost to pieces on the very shore now in sight; and I thought I should very much like to leave the ship and visit Dublin and the Giant's Causeway.
There One walk'd, reciting by herself, and one In this hand held a volume as to read, And smoothed a petted peacock down with that: Some to a low song oar'd a shallop by, Or under arches of the marble bridge Hung, shadow'd from the heat: some hid and sought In the orange thickets: others tost a ball Above the fountain jets, and back again With laughter: others lay about the lawns, Of the older sort, and murmur'd that their May Was passing: what was learning unto them?
Flitted that fond ideal world, And to the shore in tumult tost The realms of fairy bliss were lost. Yet, with a stern delight and strange, I saw the spirit-stirring change, As warr'd the wind with wave and wood, Upon the ruin'd tower I stood, And felt my heart more strongly bound, Responsive to the lofty sound, While, joying in the mighty roar, I mourn'd that tranquil scene no more.
Their downy feathers, the air whirl'd about: The other, the sea vainly tost too and fro.
What love of fame, what lust of gold tempted thee away from the red cliffs, and grey olives, and wells of black water wreathed with maidenhair? The music of the rustic flute Kept not for long its happy country tone; Lost it too soon, and learned a stormy note Of men contention tost, of men who groan, Which tasked thy pipe too sore, and tired thy throat It failed, and thou wast mute!
The crew, man, the crew! Are they not one and all with Ahab, in this matter of the whale? See Stubb! he laughs! See yonder Chilian! he snorts to think of it. Stand up amid the general hurricane, thy one tost sapling cannot, Starbuck! And what is it? Reckon it. 'Tis but to help strike a fin; no wondrous feat for Starbuck. What is it more?
If the solemn dance and clashing of cymbals during the Magnificat could be allowed, the rustic Indian would enjoy Evensong. Father Benson, in his "War-Songs of the Prince of Peace," thus happily translates the fourth verse of Psalm 150 "Praise Him with timbrels tost in timely dance." And that is what the Christian Indian would delight to do. Erroneous notions about India.
C....d had more Poison in his Tongue, than all the Adders the Moon have in their Teeth. Nec Non, or Lawyers Latin turn'd into Lunar Burlesque. The Hyerogliphick was the Queens Mony tost in a Blanket, Dedicated to the Attorney General, and five false Latin Councellors. Mandamus, as it was Acted at Abb...ton Assizes, by Mr.
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