Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Yvon; but I was now buoyed up by a new light in the sky, which made the first time in more tolerable than it might otherwise have been. It was getting near my turn for leave! I had been looking forward to this for a long time, but there were many who had to take their turn in front of me, so I had dismissed the case for a bit.
A curious book in which Pierre Yvon, pastor of the Labadist church after Labadie's death, describes the death-bed conduct and speeches of members of the sect, gives us glimpses of the diarist's family life. They may enable us to look more kindly upon that censorious writer. Under date of May, 1676, the pastor commemorates the death of "our sister Susanna Spykershof, wife of our brother Dankers.
Furious at the accident that drenched his clothes, the royal servitor hurled imprecations and insults upon Yvon the Calf, who, however, seeming not to notice either the imprecations or the insults, continued to repeat triumphantly: "The King! Oh! Oh! The King!" Like his wife Louis the Do-nothing was barely twenty years of age.
She was not slow to remind him of the promise, nor he to satisfy her. "My dear wife," said Yvon to Marceline the first morning that they awoke in their new forest home, "What were the motives of my pretended idiocy? I was brought up by my father in the hatred of kings.
The sky was overcast; the wind was rising; with deep concern Yvon noticed several snow flakes floating down. Should the snow fall heavily before the buck was shot, the animal's tracks would be covered, and if opportunity failed to dart an arrow at it from the forester's ambuscade, he could not then expect to be able to trace the buck any further. Yvon's fears proved correct.
Yvon now no longer the Calf, but the Forester, since his appointment over the canton of the Fountain of the Hinds and his family did not escape the scourge. About five years before the famine of 1033, his beloved wife Marceline died.
"Halloa, you girl!" called out Louis the Do-nothing to Marceline who was taking up her bucket of water. "What was the cause of the infernal racket made by that noisy pack?" "Seigneur," answered Marceline trembling, "they wanted to ill-treat poor Yvon." "Is the Calf about?"
My poor grandmother believed me devoid of reason, the retainers at the castle, the courtiers, and later the King himself amused themselves with the imbecility of Yvon the Calf.
It rushed straight toward the giant, who scarcely had time to dive, chased him under the water, pursued him on the top of the waves, followed him closely whichever way he turned, and forced him to flee as fast as he could to his island, where he finally landed with the greatest difficulty, and fell upon the shore dripping, worn out, and conquered. "On the Kerver!" cried Yvon; "we are saved."
The light emitted by the hearth enabled him to see distinctly among the bloody remnants near where the mastiff had been gnawing his bone, a human hand and the trunk of a human arm. Horrified as he was, Yvon approached the bleeding members. There was no doubt. Before him lay the remains of a human body. The surprising girth that Gregory the Hollow-bellied had suddenly developed came to his mind.
Word Of The Day