"Pia said you are a good man," the stranger said, bowing.
Thorburn rose at once. "Tell me how it was, before I see her," he asked.
"Now lie stretched out and open your face mask."
Mr. John was bizzy wid his pan around Miss Claire’s floury hidge wich is a sorry enuff looking hidge, being that the weeds and grarss have grown out thick wid only a poor little flour to pike up its hed here and there. Mr. John do be throwing the salt wid a ginerous hand over the sad looking hidge.
“‘Now remimber,’ ses Minnie, ‘no gineral housework for you.’”
“Whew! what d’ye think of that now—my chum here beginning to talk like an old salt, and able to box the compass like any Jack Tar. By the time we get home you’ll be a regular walking encyclopedia of knowledge.”
“Now measuring forth with Attic grace
"Madam," said Father O'Rourke, "you have only done an act of Christian charity of which your own good heart must approve, and which has done much to comfort us in our own hard case. We have a right to look for kindness in woman, but we do not always look for sensibility such as you have evinced."
way back to the city, we stopped to look for a moment at what Mr. Burns said was the most wretched part of the population in that quarter of the city. The houses were two-story dwellings, with the sills flush with the pavement, in front of which groups of lounging idle men and women stood or squatted on the pavement. A portion of the street was given up to gypsy vans, and the whole population was made up, as I learned, of pedlers and pushcart venders, a class of people who, in the very centre of civilization, manage somehow to maintain a nomadic and half-barbarous existence, wandering from one place to another with the seasons, living from hand to mouth, working irregularly and not more than half the time.
One good wom-an with but-ter and eggs to sell from her farm, said she thought she “would like to shake hands with Mr. Lin-coln once more.” Then she told him, as he did not seem to re-mem-ber her, that he had stopped at her house to get some-thing to eat when he was ‘rid-ing the cir-cuit,’ and that one day he came when she had noth-ing but bread and milk to give him, and he said that it was good e-nough for the Pres-i-dent of the U-ni-ted States, “and now,” she said, “I’m glad that you are go-ing to be Pres-i-dent!”
Nothing could have brought out this more clearly than the comical attempt made recently by the Daily Express to suggest that Mr. Keir Hardie and the party he leads was mysteriously involved with my unfortunate self in teaching Free Love to respectable
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