Ballou's Monthly Magazine, Bind 33–34Thomes & Talbot, 1871 |
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Side 30
... hour over it . He was , in fine , precisely such a looking fellow as a sen- sible man would like to take in hand and ... hours older , then I'm blessed myself , ” I announced . Ned said nothing . The sight cut him to the heart . But no ...
... hour over it . He was , in fine , precisely such a looking fellow as a sen- sible man would like to take in hand and ... hours older , then I'm blessed myself , ” I announced . Ned said nothing . The sight cut him to the heart . But no ...
Side 54
... hour later , folded my letter , placed it in an envelop and superscribing it , I walked down to the post - office , and dropped it into the box . Then I went home and laid myself down in the hope of pleasant dreams . In a few hours more ...
... hour later , folded my letter , placed it in an envelop and superscribing it , I walked down to the post - office , and dropped it into the box . Then I went home and laid myself down in the hope of pleasant dreams . In a few hours more ...
Side 60
... hours afterwards I went to inform them that mamma and lunch were waiting , and we all went over ; and after mamma had caressed and cried ... hour afterwards Teresa appeared , quite refreshed . request , we went 60 Ballou's Monthly Magazine .
... hours afterwards I went to inform them that mamma and lunch were waiting , and we all went over ; and after mamma had caressed and cried ... hour afterwards Teresa appeared , quite refreshed . request , we went 60 Ballou's Monthly Magazine .
Side 62
... hours after , when Joe came in to get ready to go to the Alston station , some two miles away , the amused look was still ... hour , " for the faintest shadow of a pair of pantalets and a worsted hood on the little mill - pond where they ...
... hours after , when Joe came in to get ready to go to the Alston station , some two miles away , the amused look was still ... hour , " for the faintest shadow of a pair of pantalets and a worsted hood on the little mill - pond where they ...
Side 83
... hours , " returned the baro- net , laughing . " It will be pleasant to know my lady looks for my return . Adieu ... hour she continued to polish and arrange the gems , wondering if the loud throbbing of her heart was audible to her ...
... hours , " returned the baro- net , laughing . " It will be pleasant to know my lady looks for my return . Adieu ... hour she continued to polish and arrange the gems , wondering if the loud throbbing of her heart was audible to her ...
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Alicia Araxa arms asked beautiful Ben Davis better Bill Bill Moore boat Bob Graham called Captain child Colonel Yates Creighton cried dark dear Dick door dress exclaimed eyes face Fairoaks father feet Gertie girl glance gone hair half hand happy head hear heard heart hour Jack Hastings Jinny John John Creighton kiss knew lady laughing Leonore light live looked Louis Lycidas marriage marry miles Miss Miss Martindale morning mother Nelson never night Odessa once passed pelargonium poor pretty replied rose Russia seemed Shafton ship side smile soon stairs stood sure sweet tell thing thought tion told took turned Uncle Ben Uncle Seth voice walked watched Westwold wife Wilbraham window woman wonder wont words young
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Side 362 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow! When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow. The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn; Till danger's troubled night depart And the star of peace return. Then, then, ye ocean warriors ! Our song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow!
Side 219 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits, and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms...
Side 219 - His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ! Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Side 362 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ; For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave...
Side 305 - Doubt not, therefore, sir, but that angling is an art, and an art worth your learning. The question is rather, whether you be capable of learning it ? for angling is somewhat like poetry, — men are to be born so: I mean, with inclinations to it, though both may be heightened by discourse and practice; but he that hopes to be a good angler must not only bring an inquiring, searching, observing wit, but he must bring a large measure of hope and patience, and a love and propensity to the art itself;...
Side 219 - With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances ; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and...
Side 306 - Taking therein no little delectation, To think how strange, how wonderful they be; Framing thereof an inward contemplation, To set his heart from other fancies free ; And whilst he looks on these with joyful eye. His mind is wrapt above the starry sky.
Side 219 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Side 305 - O sir, doubt not but that angling is an art. Is it not an art to deceive a trout with an artificial fly ? a trout that is more sharp-sighted than any hawk you have named, and more watchful and timorous than your high-mettled merlin is bold ! and yet I doubt not to catch a brace or two to-morrow for a friend's breakfast. Doubt not, therefore, sir, but that angling is an art...
Side 363 - BLOW high, blow low, let tempests tear, The main-mast by the board ; My heart, with thoughts of thee, my dear, And love well stored, Shall brave all danger, scorn all fear, The roaring winds, the raging sea, In hopes on shore To be once more Safe moored with thee ! Aloft while mountains high we go, The whistling winds that scud along, And...