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Updated: August 29, 2024


Too astute to be hoodwinked, she understood that her husband still had a friendly feeling for her but that his love was dead. In the eyes of a jealous woman, friendship is a slight thing. What does she care for the esteem and attentions of a friend who was once her lover? To all the good services of friendship she would a thousand times prefer the anger, fury, violence, of love.

Hoodwinked and fettered, suspected by his master, baffled, bewildered, irritated by his adversary, what could he do but plunge from one difficulty to another and oscillate between extravagant menace, and desponding concession, until his hopes and life were wasted quite away.

Full surely the professor would not be deceived, and a lover with a heart to reach to her and read her could never be hoodwinked by so palpable a piece of slavishness. She was indeed slavish; the apology necessitated the confession.

Mendoza, lynx-eyed ambassador of Spain, was hoodwinked. But Doughty, the viper in Drake's bosom, was meditating mischief: not exactly treason with Spain, but at least a breach of confidence by telling Burleigh. De Guaras, chief Spanish spy in England, was sorely puzzled. Drake's ostensible destination was Egypt, and his men were openly enlisted for Alexandria.

"Has anyone else recognized you?" asked Carrados quietly. "Ah, that was the voice, you said," replied Carlyle. "Yes; but other people heard the voice as well. Only I had no blundering, self-confident eyes to be hoodwinked." "That's a rum way of putting it," said Carlyle. "Are your ears never hoodwinked, may I ask?" "Not now. Nor my fingers.

"Your men, then, haven't studied the traces of the struggle that 'these precious men' have had on the banks of the Neva before they carried away Natacha?" "Oh, they haven't been hoodwinked. As a matter of fact, the struggle was quite too visible not to have been done for appearances' sake. What a child you are!

Poor, deluded, hoodwinked souls! they are blinded by Satan. Their hands are red with blood, and their hearts are black as hell. Were they to ever approach the heaven of which they sanctimoniously prate, they would be met at the gate with the curse of murdered infants who never saw the light.

The hawk did not always win the fight: sometimes a crafty heron would turn his long bill upwards just as the hawk was descending upon him, and pierce his antagonist through the body. Great skill and perseverance were required in training these birds. When they were not flying after their prey, they were hoodwinked, i.e. their heads were covered with caps, which were often finely embroidered.

How long are we going to stand this scandal of international illiteracy and ignorance, fraught with such ominous peril for the future? How long is this nation going to be hoodwinked by an infinitesimal minority of reactionary dons and obscurantist parsons, determined to force a smattering of Greek down the throats of a reluctant youth?

The only thing the public can do against this is to try hard to develop a hereditary power of not being hoodwinked. From the small success it has met with hitherto we may think that the effort on its part can have been neither severe nor long sustained. Indeed, all ages seem to have held that "the pleasure is as great of being cheated as to cheat." The Public Ear

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