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It is a more pleasant way to die than if you were crowding about me on a sick-bed. And yet I am dying. This is my last kiss. Forgive, forget the unworthy." So far he had written, his paper was all filled, when there returned a memory of evenings at the piano, and that song, the masterpiece of love, in which so many have found the expression of their dearest thoughts. "Einst, O Wunder!" he added.
Tant de fois je le lui ai demande, "Qu'est ce donc que ce Bismarck, Winifred?" Mais elle n'a pas voulu me le dire. Son Bismarck, c'etait un mystere. 'Oui, c'est un mystere, vraiment un mystere! Miss Brangwen, say that Bismarck is a mystery, cried Winifred. 'Bismarck, is a mystery, Bismarck, c'est un mystere, der Bismarck, er ist ein Wunder, said Gudrun, in mocking incantation.
It was a good while sence I'd seen the inside o' the room, for when he heerd me comin' up, he'd open the door a crack an' peek out while he spoke to me; so when I got inside the room and looked about, I was all took aback an' gawped round like a fool, an' no wunder nyther; for of all the good furnitoor and things he'd brought, there wa'n't the fust thing to be seen, save and 'xcept a kind o' frame covered with cloth stannin' ag'inst the wall, an' an old straw-bed on the floor, with him on it, an' a mis'able old comf'table kivered over him."
It is a more pleasant way to die than if you were crowding about me on a sick-bed. And yet I am dying. This is my last kiss. Forgive, forget the unworthy. So far he had written, his paper was all filled, when there returned a memory of evenings at the piano, and that song, the masterpiece of love, in which so many have found the expression of their dearest thoughts. 'Einst, O wunder! he added.
"D'Schoergen and d'Schreiber and d'Richter allsammt, Sind'n Teufel auskomma, druck'n ueberall auf's Land, Und schinden Bauern, es is kam zum sog'n, Es waer ja koan Wunder, wir thaeten's allsammt erschlog'n." See Mayr, "Joseph Spechbacher," p. 22. "The pushing the writers, and magistrates all, Possessed by the devil, our country enthrall, And grind the poor peasants; alas, 'tis a shame!
Castle showed a good deal of curiosity about Thorn's business and how he was doing, so he told 'em all about how he'd struck it rich, and in his pride showed a letter which he had received from Jim the day before. It ran: "Dere Thorn: The Infunt Fernomerner is a wunder and the pile groes every day.
The old Vermonter, turning a quid of sassafras from one corner of his mouth to the other, drawled, with all impressiveness of a judge to whom some knotty law point had been presented: "Wall, I wunder what he gits out'n this? He mus' be a darned critter tew resk himself in thet ere fashion; an' I swan whar th' profit comes in is agin me tew tell."
'Ja, er ist ein Wunder, repeated Winifred, with odd seriousness, under which lay a wicked chuckle. 'Ist er auch ein Wunder? came the slightly insolent sneering of Mademoiselle. 'Doch! said Winifred briefly, indifferent. 'Doch ist er nicht ein Konig. Beesmarck, he was not a king, Winifred, as you have said. He was only-il n'etait que chancelier.
The reason, as soon as Reardon sought for it, was obvious. Biffen had no ordinary coat beneath the other. To have referred to this fact would have been indelicate; the novelist of course understood it, and smiled, but with no mirth. 'Let me have your Sophocles, were the visitor's next words. Reardon offered him a volume of the Oxford Pocket Classics. 'I prefer the Wunder, please.
Captain Bickley had been a commissioned officer in the Pennsylvania Reserves; First Lieutenant Lewis H. Wunder was a veteran of the Mexican War; and Second Lieutenant Charles H. Richards, though never in actual service, had had a long connection with the militia before the war.
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