Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 26, 2025
As the waste-barrel in the alley is filled with refuse and filth, so the orphan waifs in our streets are made receptacles of all vicious thoughts and deeds. These children are not so much born as damned into life. But how different is the childhood of some others.
Sometimes on life's highway we meet a man who reminds us of one of those high-priced pears seen in fruiterers' windows: wholesome, good to look at, without a speck or stain on their smooth, round, rosy skins until we bite into them. Then, close to their hearts, we uncover a greedy, conscienceless worm, gnawing away in the dark and consign the whole to the waste-barrel.
Upon the roof of the balcony was maintained an evenly sonorous monotone of drubbing, as if innumerable fairy carpenters were nailing on the shingles. The invalid water-spout had a hard time of it; it was racked, shaken, and bullied, and continually choked itself with the volubility of its fluent utterances, which were instantly swallowed up in the bottomless depths of the waste-barrel.
I was in front of King's Chapel Burial Ground, whose half-dozen leafless trees were alive with noisy sparrows. The crowd swept on. I halted behind a waste-barrel by the iron fence and forgot the soughing pines and clacking guineas. Bird roosts of this size are no common find.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking