Daily resultsl

Daily resultsl Here were men--if I could only harangue them and inflame them with but In a moment the obliging boy’s head was surmounted by an empty tomato can, and under the aegis of “Whacker Brand” he became attendant to the circus manageress. Thus helmeted he stood and gazed at Betty as though the hinges of his jaw were loosening.,“What’s the matter? What ye cryin’ fer?” It was Nils the fisherman who spoke and whose coming over the soft grass Johnny had not noticed.,The buffalo were surprised and the magpie was glad, and flew about making a great noise.,"Naw, why should there be? That's what you're supposed to do, if you get the chance—shoot 'em, an' get the reward.",He doesn't see.，After several excuses, she was obliged to go and fetch the key. Blue Beard having examined it, said to his wife, "Why is there blood on this key?" "I don't know," answered the poor wife, paler than death.，"Do as I tell you," said Jen, so fiercely that Jaggard did not dare to disobey, but ran off, leaving the major alone with his dead.，'I was interrupted in my confession by a sound of deep sobs, and rising my eyes, Oh God, what were my sensations, when in the features of the holy father I discovered Angelo! His image faded like a vision from my sight, and I sunk at his feet. On recovering I found myself on my matrass, attended by a sister, who I discovered by her conversation had no suspicion of the occasion of my disorder. Indisposition confined me to my bed for several days; when I recovered, I saw Angelo no more, and could almost have doubted my senses, and believed that an illusion had crossed my sight, till one day I found in my cell a written paper. I distinguished at the first glance the handwriting of Angelo, that well-known hand which had so often awakened me to other emotions. I trembled at the sight; my beating heart acknowledged the beloved characters; a cold tremor shook my frame, and half breathless I seized the paper. But recollecting myself, I paused—I hesitated: duty at length yielded to the strong temptation, and I read the lines! Oh! those lines prompted by despair, and bathed in my tears! every word they offered gave a new pang to my heart, and swelled its anguish almost beyond endurance. I learned that Angelo, severely wounded in a foreign engagement, had been left for dead upon the field; that his life was saved by the humanity of a common soldier of the enemy, who perceiving signs of existence, conveyed him to a house. Assistance was soon procured, but his wounds exhibited the most alarming symptoms. During several months he languished between life and death, till at length his youth and constitution surmounted the conflict, and he returned to Naples. Here he saw my brother, whose distress and astonishment at beholding him occasioned a relation of past circumstances, and of the vows I had taken in consequence of the report of his death. It is unnecessary to mention the immediate effect of this narration; the final one exhibited a very singular proof of his attachment and despair;—he devoted himself to a monastic life, and chose this abbey for the place of his residence, because it contained the object most dear to his affections. His letter informed me that he had purposely avoided discovering himself, endeavouring to be contented with the opportunities which occurred of silently observing me, till chance had occasioned the foregoing interview.—But that since its effects had been so mutually painful, he would relieve me from the apprehension of a similar distress, by assuring me, that I should see him no more. He was faithful to his promise; from that day I have never seen him, and am even ignorant whether he yet inhabits this asylum; the efforts of religious fortitude, and the just fear of exciting curiosity, having withheld me from enquiry. But the moment of our last interview has been equally fatal to my peace and to my health, and I trust I shall, ere very long, be released from the agonizing ineffectual struggles occasioned by the consciousness of sacred vows imperfectly performed, and by earthly affections not wholly subdued.'"It's gone sure enough, sir, but I don't know where."

Up the stairs she takes her and into her own room, without saying a word. Then she carefully turns the key in the door, and, placing Mona in a large and cosey arm-chair, stands opposite to her, and thus begins,—,Then there is silence for a full minute, during which Miss Mansergh casts a reproachful glance at the irrepressible Jack.,"It's cleared off, after all," he said. "It's going to be a ripping fine day tomorrow.",In the bright moonlight he carefully examined the body, but could find no trace of any wound, until he came to the right hand. Here, in the palm, he saw a ragged rent clotted with blood, but it was a mere scratch not likely to have caused death, unless poison were--. Here Major Jen uttered an oath, and rose to his feet with a new and terrible idea in his brain.,"Ho! ho!" murmured Maurice, rather taken back. "So the art of devil-raising is not a lost one after all. Dido can still call spirits from the vasty deep.",Anson chuckled, "Well, you ain't goin' to get no chance to do any funny stunts this afternoon," he promised. "I'm here to keep an eye on you.","Oh, Acton, Acton, you overwhelm me!" murmured the Admiral, turning his head away to sea, and speaking with a voice that trembled with the tears of a man's heart.,Sir Nicholas is there, silent, but angry, as Violet knows by the frown upon his brow. With his mother he never quarrels, merely expressing disapproval by such signs as an unwillingness to speak, and a stern grave line that grows upon his lips.,In Montana, running into the Missouri River from the south, is a little stream that the Blackfeet call "It Fell on Them." Once, long, long ago, while a number of women were digging in a bank near this stream for the red earth that they used as paint, the bank gave way and fell on them, burying and killing them. The white people call this Armell's Creek.,"Of the purest," says Geoffrey.,Mrs. Rodney, however, has been foraging on her own account during this brief interlude, and now brings triumphantly to light a little basin filled with early snowdrops.,"Murder!" echoed Jaggard, his ruddy face growing pale. "And who, sir--".