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Updated: June 23, 2025
"A very wise man has told about him, a man by the name of Wheatley, and he says that this Valentine was a good bishop who lived long ago, and so famous for his love and charity that after he died he was called Saint Valentine, and a festival was held on his birthday, when all the people would send love tokens to their friends." Polly's face was radiant.
There was a man named Wheatley in the American camp, a strange, incommunicative person, a volunteer, making war entirely on his own book, and seeking revenge for some relatives of his, who had been killed by the Indians. The fight drifted around, and R along with it; and by and by he reached a spot where Wheatley lay dead, with his head on Tecumseh's breast.
Served me right, though, we'en I demeaned myself to come; I might 'a' knowed what treatment I'd 'eceive from you. Ef I hadn't ben boun' by solemn class-rules to pay some 'tention to Brother Wheatley's immortal soul " these words were uttered at the very top of her voice "you wouldn't 'a' caught me comin'; but I'll never come ag'in, never; so make yourself easy, Mis' Wheatley."
Bright may rest assured: while we complain, we are still grateful. Mr. Wheatley, to divide our obligation, brings together, clearly and with no lost words, a body of illustrative material. Sometimes we might ask a little more; never, I think, less. And as a matter of fact, a great part of Mr.
Hipgrave; and a stage direction might add: "Business with brows, as before." "'Poulos'?" I repeated. "Could it be Constantinopoulos?" asked Hamlyn, with a nervous deference to my Hellenic learning. "It might, conceivably," I hazarded, "be Constantine Stefanopoulos." "Then," said Hamlyn, "I shouldn't wonder if it was. Anyhow, the less you see of him, Wheatley, the better. Take my word for that."
Wheatley was there too, with a suggestion of large white shoulders shining through veilings of black gauze; and with an air of stately pride, Mrs. Ryan presented him to Lord Hastings. This young man, sitting next Genevieve, was a tall, fair, straight-featured Englishman of gravely unresponsive manners.
"Oh, of course, you can rely on that, Lord Wheatley," said he. "That is a diplomatic assurance, your excellency?" I ventured to suggest, with a smile. "It is unofficial," said he, "but as binding as if it were official. Our governor in that part of the world is a very active man yes, a decidedly active man." The only result of this conversation was that, when I was buying my sporting guns in St.
On the evening of the 26th, Lieutenant Rattray went over to Khar as usual to play polo. Just as the game was ended, he received a letter, brought in haste by two sowars, from Lieutenant Wheatley, the other subaltern at Chakdara, warning him that a great number of Pathans with flags were advancing on the fort.
Other vehicles on their way home to the fashionable estates of Wheatley Hills, Hempstead, and the South Shore were overhauled and left behind. The big machine had begun its long night-song, and it flashed over the rises or dipped into the swales with the gliding ease of movement characteristic of an aeroplane.
"They were described to me as good-hearted folk," said I; "unsophisticated, of course, but good-hearted." "They think that the island is theirs, you see," he explained, "and that the lord has no business to sell it. They may be good-hearted, Lord Wheatley, but they are tenacious of their rights." "But they can't have any rights," I expostulated. "None at all," he assented.
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