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answered asked astrologer Benedictine monk Betsy Bonneval brother chair Chateaudun chintz Christine Christmas Christmas-eve church Clara Claude Genest Claude's comet Cousin Mary cried dear district of Sologne divining rod excitement exclaimed eyes face Father Ulric favour favourite feelings folly fool Franciscan Grace Tresham Gulf hand happy head heard heart hope hour Jack James Jones knew labour laughed legend listened live logne looked ma'am Marmoutier marriage Mathilde Mathilde's midnight mass mind Monsieur mother murmured never night notary old Lyddy old Widow old woman once parrots perhaps pickaxe poodle poor old puss raven remarked replied Robert de Blois round seemed side smile spoke sure talk tell thing thought tion town treasure treasure-seeking turned uncon vaults voice Westwood Widow Cocker wish wonder words young lady youth Zamet
Page 16 - And that's what little boys are made of. What are little girls made of, made of, made of, What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice, and all that's nice ; And that's what little girls are made of.
Page 265 - By the mysteries of the deep, by the flames of Banal, by the power of the East and the silence of the night, by the Holy Rites of Hecate, I conjure and exorcise thee, thou distressed spirit, to present thyself here, and reveal unto me the cause of thy calamity...
Page 151 - Through thickest shades, pursues the fond of peace, Man's caution often into danger turns, And, his guard falling, crushes him to death. Not Happiness itself makes good her name; Our very wishes give us not our wish.
Page 89 - ... She took the care of his temporal concerns upon her, extricated him from debt, and, by a happy union of prudence and economy, so managed all his worldly business, that in a few years his circumstances became easy and comfortable. In a word, in her was literally fulfilled the declaration of Solomon, that "a virtuous woman is a crown to her husband, and that her price is far above rubies.
Page 36 - ... heavy body fell with a thud at my feet. That is to say, I saw nothing, but the sound was unmistakable. Then, before I had time to recover myself, or even to wonder what it could mean, sharp and sudden and terrible, arose a cry. And then in a flash all was clear to me. I staggered back into a chair, and covered my face with my hands. But I could not shut out those awful sounds. All round the air was rent, even as it had been on that fatal night, with the most appalling chorus of shrieks and yells...
Page 2 - STORY OF RICHARD FALCONER.* WAS born at Bruton, a market-town in Somersetshire, of parents in tolerably good circumstances. My mother having died while I was very young, I was left entirely to the charge of my father, who had been a great traveller in his youth, and frequently related his adventures abroad. This roused a desire in my mind to follow his steps. I often begged he would let me go to sea with some captain of his acquaintance ; but he would reply : ' Stay where you are ; you know not the...