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Страница 78 - I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.
Страница 10 - He kin' o' 1'itered on the mat, Some doubtfle o' the sekle, His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity Zekle. An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk Ez though she wished him furder, An' on her apples kep' to work, Parin
Страница 214 - em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin* o' smily roun' the lips An' teary roun' the lashes. For she was jes' the quiet kind Whose naturs never vary, Like streams that keep a summer mind Snowhid in Jenooary. The blood clost roun...
Страница 48 - S jest to make him fill its pus. Want to tackle me in, du ye ? I expect you 'll hev to wait ; Wen cold lead puts daylight thru ye You 'll begin to kal'late; S'pose the crows wun't fall to pickin' All the carkiss from your bones, Coz you helped to give a lickin' To them poor half-Spanish drones ? Jest go home an...
Страница 46 - Ez fer war, I call it murder, — There you hev it plain an' flat; I don't want to go no furder Than my Testyment fer that; God hez sed so plump an' fairly, It 's ez long ez it is broad, An' you've gut to git up airly Ef you want to take in God.
Страница 333 - An' gives one leap from April into June : Then all comes crowdin' in ; afore you think, Young oak-leaves mist the side-hill woods with pink ; The catbird in the laylock-bush is loud ; The orchards turn to heaps o...
Страница 274 - It is a shameful and unblessed thing to take the scum of people, and wicked condemned men, to be the people with whom you plant; and not only so, but it spoileth the plantation; for they will ever live like rogues, and not fall to work, but be lazy, and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly weary, and then certify over to their country to the discredit of the plantation.
Страница 67 - An' thet all this big talk of our destinies Is half on it ign'ance, an' t' other half rum ; But John P. Robinson he Sez it aint no sech thing; an', of course, so must we. Parson Wilbur sez he never heerd in his life Thet th' Apostles rigged out in their swaller-tail coats, An' marched round in front of a drum an' a fife, To git some on 'em office, an' some on 'em votes ; But John P.
Страница 11 - He couldn't ha' told ye nuther. Says he, " I'd better call agin:" Says she, " Think likely, Mister: " Thet last word pricked him like a pin, An' . . . Wai, he up an' kist her. When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin' o' smily roun' the lips An' teary roun