Holidays at Home and Abroad

Front Cover
W.J. Johnson, Printer, 1877 - Mexico - 199 pages
 

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Selected pages

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page xx - Sylla, of Caesar and Pompey. We perceive the great men descending to trifling matters. Mirabeau inspired this domestic majesty and virility in his very cradle. I dwell on these details, which may seem foreign to this history, but explain it. The source of genius is often in ancestry, and the blood of descent is sometimes the prophecy of destiny.
Page 59 - Ventosa. at the summit pass which divides the waters which flow into the Pacific from those which flow into the Atlantic.
Page 53 - Another observer, who noticed that the railroad was laid down in an angular fashion, inquired about the zigzag course. "The contractor winked. 'Wai, sir, I guess the company were paid by the Government so many dollars and so many acres of land a mile for making the line.
Page 199 - But to live is to work, and the labour Still sweetens the bread which it brings, And to work is to pray, and the worker Lightens toil with the song which he sings.
Page 198 - All our limbs in the depths with such freedom, And shouted aloud for the joy Of the water, the sun, and the pastime, Each man with the mirth of a boy.
Page 49 - They land their food in huge pieces, with their knives, somewhere down their throats — a moment — a distension of the throat — a bolt, and it is gone.
Page 71 - I ate in the hotels, hot rolls, plenty of vegetables, coffee, tea, preserved peaches, &c. — an excellent repast — and then we went out and smoked our pipes round the camp-fire sub Jove frigido.
Page 198 - How ruddy the skin grew with colour Of health, in the wind and the sun, How the muscles swelled strongly and largely, In the scaling the mountains we won.
Page 199 - With a song of the mountain and moorland, With a song of the air blowing free On the river which ceaseless is flowing, And sparkling with sunlight — to sea.
Page xii - I like streaks of morning cloud melting into the infinite azure of the past.

Bibliographic information