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'And pray, rejoined the other boy, 'should you have laughed equally hearty if, after you had been at school all day, and had with much difficulty just got through all your writing, and different exercises, and were going to play, should you laugh, I say, if somebody was to run away with them all, and your master oblige you to do them all over again?

The prescription I have given you is a tonic. I went out at once to our chemist and got it. I found her writing a letter when I came back, but she finished it immediately, and pushed it away from her.

You look through the window for one second, or for two seconds, you see something, and you go on your way. You saw maybe a man writing a letter. You saw something without beginning or end. Nothing happened. Yet it was a bit of life you saw. You remember it afterward. It is like a picture in your memory. The window is the frame of the picture."

One might expect even a Wagner to prefer conducting a few pieces of tedious stuff, even to put up with poor antediluvian Onslow, rather than to return to his daily task of writing begging letters to his friends from Zurich. Still, these are matters of taste, and each to his own.

Eighthly, Physicians will be necessitated to it for their subsistence and honour, and to preserve their Art from being prostituted to illiterate persons, the Apothecaries becoming now their Competitors. Ninthly, By this means Physicians will avoid multitudes of inconveniencies, proceeding from writing of Bills, and the Apothecaries Visits.

Whatever the original injustice, or rather hardship, it is scarcely likely, remembering the refusal encountered by Blackwood, that Nelson would have consented now to deprive of his "birthright" the man who so far had been doing the work; but the petition was never preferred. Entering the cabin, the officer paused at the threshold, for Nelson was on his knees writing.

In writing on the Scripture Miracles in 1825-6, I had read Middleton on the Miracles of the early Church, and had imbibed a portion of his spirit. The truth is, I was beginning to prefer intellectual excellence to moral; I was drifting in the direction of the Liberalism of the day . I was rudely awakened from my dream at the end of 1827 by two great blows illness and bereavement.

Veronica's habits of isolation clung to her; she would never leave home. The teaching she had was obtained in Surrey. But her knowledge was greater than mine. When I went to Rosville she was reading "Paradise Lost," and writing her opinions upon it in a large blank book.

He took half a dozen at a time from the shelves, dusted them on the piazza, then carried them to the embrasure of the window, which offered a pleasant light for reading and for writing the cards.

He turned from her coldly, sat down at the writing table, and began to write. Ideala was still putting on her gloves. Outside, the rain fell lightly now, and the clouds were clearing. The children were still playing at the open window of the house opposite.