Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Among the holy sisters, Julia distinguished one, the singular fervor of whose devotion, and the pensive air of whose countenance, softened by the languor of illness, attracted her curiosity, and excited a strong degree of pity. The nun, by a sort of sympathy, seemed particularly inclined towards Julia, which she discovered by innumerable acts of kindness, such as the heart can quickly understand and acknowledge, although description can never reach them. In conversation with her, Julia endeavoured, as far as delicacy would permit, to prompt an explanation of that more than common dejection which shaded those features, where beauty, touched by resignation and sublimed by religion, shone forth with mild and lambent lustre. Whenever the Queen had a child, she sent for the fairies, that she might learn from them what would be its future lot. After a while she had a little daughter, who was so beautiful, that no one could see her without loving her. The fairies came as usual, and the Queen having feasted them, said to them as they were going away, "Do not forget that good custom of yours, but tell me what will happen to Rosette"—for this was the name of the little Princess. The fairies answered her that they had left their divining-books at home, and that they would come again to see her. "Ah!" said the Queen, "that bodes no good, I fear; you do not wish to distress me by foretelling evil; but, I pray you, let me know the worst, and hide nothing from me." The fairies continued to make excuses, but the Queen only became more anxious to know the truth. At last the chief among them said to her, "We fear, madam, that Rosette will be the cause of a great misfortune befalling her brothers; that they may even lose their lives on her account. This is all that we can tell you of the fate of this sweet little Princess, and we are grieved to have nothing better to say about her." The fairies took their departure, and the Queen was very sorrowful, so sorrowful that the King saw by her face that she was in trouble. He asked her what was the matter. She told him she had gone too near the fire and accidentally burnt all the flax that was on her distaff. "Is that all?" replied the King, and he went up to his store-room and brought her down more flax than she could spin in a hundred years. Johnny Blossom went storming through the rooms. My, oh, my! how little he seemed when he looked at himself in those enormous mirrors. Soon, however, he was walking on the railing of the veranda. What a veranda it was, with its massive stone pillars and broad steps of white marble leading to the grounds! Still, Johnny Blossom was not altogether sure that the veranda at home wasn’t just as pretty; at any rate, it was pleasanter, that was certain..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
✨ Embrace the thrill with an extra 200 Free Spins for added excitement!I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
✨ Discover Football Legends on the FA Cup Winners List All-Time!
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
'I am the unfortunate descendant of an ancient and illustrious Italian family. In early childhood I was deprived of a mother's care, but the tenderness of my surviving parent made her loss, as to my welfare, almost unfelt. Suffer me here to do justice to the character of my noble father. He united in an eminent degree the mild virtues of social life, with the firm unbending qualities of the noble Romans, his ancestors, from whom he was proud to trace his descent. Their merit, indeed, continually dwelt on his tongue, and their actions he was always endeavouring to imitate, as far as was consistent with the character of his times, and with the limited sphere in which he moved. The recollection of his virtue elevates my mind, and fills my heart with a noble pride, which even the cold walls of a monastery have not been able to subdue. He revolved the means which might effect his purpose—he saw but one—this was the death of the marchioness. “Reflection from the fire box of an engine on the smoke that passes over. The reason it comes in flashes is that it only shows when the fireman opens the door to pitch on another scoop of coal. Yes, there it is again!” They plodded on, much encouraged. Oh! there was the big English coal steamer that had been lying at the wharf several days unloading coal. Too bad that he had not had a chance to go on board that steamer! He had tried to go a number of times, but there was always one or another grimy sailor who chased him ashore. Ugh! Englishmen were horrid! The steamer was unloaded now and would surely sail tonight..
298 people found this
review helpful