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For my voice of sorrow and wailing I substituted the expression of that terror which arose naturally from the contemplation of his fury, which was in its effects like a tempest, a volcano, or an earthquake. When I had finished I received with a sad air the congratulations of the audience. Voltaire cried,

Three or four coyotes had approached his camp, attracted by the scent of the calf meat. With the fading of twilight into night they came in closer, making such a racket with their yelping and wailing that he thought himself surrounded by a pack of ravenous wolves. He could not see how his pony was unconcernedly grazing within a few yards of one of the cowardly beasts.

She paused a moment, and puckering her brow slightly as if in an effort to remember, she continued, "For under the sky there is not for me, A kindred soul or sympathy, Must I stand alone in Life's busy crowd A living heart in a death-like shroud, And the voice of my wailing o'er sand and stone, Must it die on the waves as they e'er roll on."

And in all vineyards shall be wailing: for I will pass through thee, saith the LORD. Woe unto you that desire the day of the LORD! to what end is it for you? the day of the LORD is darkness, and not light. As if a man did flee from a lion, and a bear met him; or went into the house, and leaned his hand on the wall, and a serpent bit him.

From the door of the but Soolsby muttered to himself: "I will bring you back. If Luke Claridge doesn't, then I will bring you back. If he dies, I will bring you no, by the love of God, I will bring you back while he lives!" Two thousand miles away, in a Nile village, women sat wailing in dark doorways, dust on their heads, black mantles covering their faces.

"I'll shut the door meself, thin," she added; "for 'twas I that lift it opin, Tim." She started up, but gave a cry like a wailing wind, and fell back. "The door is shut," said Pierre. "But the child the child!" said Macavoy, tears running down his face and beard. Once Macavoy the giant ruled a tribe of Northern people, achieving the dignity by the hands of Pierre, who called him King Macavoy.

It came from the far end of the house. Ariston ran back into the private court. There lay Caius, his master's little sick son. His couch was under the open sky, and the gray hail was pelting down upon him. He was covering his head with his arms and wailing. "Little master!" called Ariston. "What is it? What has happened to us?" "Oh, take me!" cried the little boy.

"Queer," said a young officer. "Girl very clearly worst kind of rebel, and yet she falls to weeping and wailing like mad over one of her enemies. Be around in the morning with all sorts of doctoring you see if she ain't. Queer." The sharp lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. After reflection he shrugged his shoulders again.

The wailing of the wind among the ancient ruins was much more full of sound than his cries; and, now and then, the full-mouthed thunder filled the air with such a volume of roaring, and awakened so many echoes among the ruins, that, had he possessed the voices of fifty men, he could not have hoped to wage war with it.

Also, in the absence of an instrument, Michael would sing to the prompting and accompaniment of Steward's voice, who would begin by wailing "kow-kow" long and sadly, and then branch out on some old song or ballad. Michael had hated to sing with Kwaque, but he loved to do it with Steward, even when Steward brought him on deck to perform before the laughter-shrieking passengers.