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"It was a right word," she continued, "that I used, when I called reading and writing 'edge-tools. If our lower orders have these edge-tools given to them, we shall have the terrible scenes of the French Revolution acted over again in England. When I was a girl, one never heard of the rights of men, one only heard of the duties. Now, here was Mr.

I had suffered my necessary businesses to accumulate so terribly, that I neglected to write to any one, till the pain I suffered from not writing made me waste as many hours in dreaming about it as would have sufficed for the letter writing of half a life. But there is something beside time requisite for the writing of a letter at least with me.

Pierre gazed at her in stupefaction. "Laveuve? Why, he is dead!" In her turn she became astonished. "What, dead! But you never informed me of it! If I told you of all the trouble that has been taken, of all that had to be undone and done again, and the discussions and the papers and the writing! Are you quite sure that he is dead?" "Oh! yes, he is dead. He has been dead a month." "Dead a month!

The writing of this letter was a great strain to him, but he felt much relieved when it was gone. How differently did he feel after that other lying, flattering utterance, with his half-sleeping conscience muttering and grumbling as it lay.

What Lord Dorset observed to Edward Howard might have been addressed to almost all his contemporaries "As skilful divers to the bottom fall Swifter than those who cannot swim at all; So, in this way of writing without thinking, Thou hast a strange alacrity in sinking." From this reproach some clever men of the world must be excepted, and among them Dorset himself.

But it contained also a postscript worded somewhat as follows: "Without meaning to interfere with your liberty of action we are writing by the outgoing mail to some of our business friends there who may be of assistance to you. We desire you particularly to call on Mr. Jacobus, a prominent merchant and charterer.

'Dear M., it began there's no one else whose name begins with M in the family. And the writing was fresh not the least faded. I saw that much before I thought of what I was doing. But when I remembered 'twasn't my letter, I looked no more." "But how could he send a letter from the rebel camp to her in New York?" "Why, that's not the strangest part of it.

Father cried all the time he was writing his one." Triplet turned red as fire. "Hold your tongue," said he. "I was bursting with merriment. Wife, our children talk too much; they put their noses into everything, and criticise their own father." "Unnatural offspring!" laughed the visitor. "And when they take up a notion, Socrates couldn't convince them to the contrary.

I feel as if I had been personally swindled and insulted, and have lost all confidence in our present ministry. I am writing this again at midnight, having been from home all day. "Yours truly, "A. G. DALLAS. "P.S. Laing passed through Inverness to-day, on his way to canvass the Orkneys."

What other sister could I have given you that you would have loved better?" "Oh, no one; not for her own sake no one half so well." "Then tell her so, and do not cloud her prospects by writing about the house. You have all had shelter and comfort hitherto, and be trustful that it will be continued to you." This did very well with his sister; but the affair with his mother was much more serious.