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"Give me the treaty, sir," I replied, "and I undertake to carry it to Moorshedabad. Am I to deliver it into Mr. Watts's hands?" "Why, yes; that is, if you find him still there when you arrive. But you must use the greatest caution in communicating with him. Above all, beware of the Gentoo Omichund, who has already once threatened to betray us.
And the desert is reclaimed. He saw the brakes of sugar-cane waving, the tall doura swaying in the breeze, where only the sands had been. And his brown cheeks glowed, as a hot wave of blood went through them. Progress! He loved to think of it. It was his passion. That grand old Watts's picture, with its glow, its sacred glow of colour, in which was genius! Each one must do his part.
I look at the vision of the earth to-day, of the great cities rushing together at last and running around the world like children running around a house great cities shouting on the seas, suddenly sliding up and down the globe, playing hopscotch on the equator, scrambling up the poles all these colossal children!... Here we all are! a whiff of steam from the Watts's steam kettle and a wave of Marconi across the air and we have crept up from our little separate sunsets, all our little private national bedrooms of light and darkness into the one single same cunning dooryard of a world!
"Jacob had two wives," he said; and he chanted on, quoting imperfectly from Dr. Watts's Scripture Catechism, "And Jacob was a good man, therefore his brother hated him." "No, no, Jem," said I, "that was Abel. Jacob was Isaac's younger son, and " "Hush! Hush! Hush!" said my mother. "You're not to do Sunday lessons on week-days. What terrible boys you are!"
What Professor Tyndall might promise would be either not to discover any more facts, or to discover only certain classes of facts, or to draw no inferences from facts which would be unfavorable to Dr. Watts's theory of the universe; but the only result of this would be that Tyndall would lose his place as a scientific man, and others would go on discovering the facts and drawing the inferences.
My father used to carry a chain for a surveyor sometimes, and there is a ten-foot pole in the house he used to measure land with. I don't see why that should make me a poet. My mother was always fond of Dr. Watts's hymns; but so are other young men's mothers, and yet they don't show poetical genius. But wherever I got it, it comes as easy to me to write in verse as to write in prose, almost.
"Hold her tight, and run her down the middle!" shouted the voice of the caller-out. "Over to Watts's last fall," Mrs. Luella rambled on, slicing ham the while at a great rate, "they had bun sandwiches, and in the top of ary bun there was a toothpick stickin' up. If you've got toothpicks enough about the place, we might try it. It looks real tasty." "Mrs.
Just such a look as Watts's "Minotaur" wears in the Tate Gallery in London. In an instant he was away in a world which was as far off from this world as Jupiter is from Mars.
"That's a bad look-out for Christmas-eve. Why don't you go over to Watts's?" "What's Watts's?" "It's a house in High Street, where you'll get a good supper, a bed, and a fourpenny-bit in the morning if you can show you'em an honest man, and not a regular tramp. There's old Watts's muniment down by the side of the choir.
This is by "illustrating" the trial, through a process resembling that which has been already supposed to have been applied to one of Watts's hymns.
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