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and the frigate came up almost head to wind; but scarcely a minute had passed when we felt that she had run stem on to the ground; but so la loss program supplement weight had changed, and he wanted her no longer? years had gone by since he had seen her; it must have been a wayward fancy that could ever have m .

." "In that case, I think everybody that stays here is bound to supply one." "See here--who is that gentleman that is so fortunate as to be .

At last he broke off and hurried away to an engagement. The next day at breakfast, Eleanor was a good deal surprised to be asked if she wo .

ensible stare, his fears accentuated by this seeming indication of a supreme and hopeless pity. "Ain't yew a-goin' ter shake hands? Er be y .

that which must attend supposed overthrown schemes and disappointed ambition. Eleanor had chosen her own course, backed by her wealthy rela .

nor, drooping. "That's what Mr. Rhys always does, so he is never troubled. I will tell you what he says--he says, 'What time I am afraid, I .

esourceful little wife he found a scared-faced and trembling woman. Angy had suddenly become conscious of the shadow of the green-eyed mons .

ere thin gold leaf. The oddest thing of all was that the ducats were always markt--for they took good care not to root up the beautiful wee .

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almost thought he would; but he was already fatigued with his wounds and previous exertions. The line, too, of the mate's boat had many tim .

one, now swooped upon him. He was hugged, too, with warm, generous congratulation, his hands were both shaken until they ached, and his clo .

ddling class of life, enlightened too by a living faith of which they had no conception; and the sketch gives fair warrant for the conclusi .

humanity is deplorable. Well, they will get their reward when the Master comes. A man leaves everything indeed when he goes to the South Se .

o remembered that, witness the still close embrace which Eleanor threw around her, and the still hiding of the girl's face on her mother's .

lay leaning against the bulkhead, gasping out his last breath. We had discovered enough to show us why our capture was so crowded with peo .

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o sang the old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence. And so sweet and pure, so natural and wild, was her giving of the wild old song, as if it coul .

g off her bonnet and wrappers and handing them over to another attendant with a candle and a blue jacket. In the low room Mrs. Caxton looke .

aspt after his sword, tried his dagger, and summoned courage and resolution again. Much as he had but now wisht for death, it was yet too f .

f clothes in his arms. "Gently, now," he sung out; "she has life in her, but very little of it." The clothes enveloped a female form, but s .

l version of the Life of David, may be still met with, in the old Quaker libraries. On the score of poetical merit, it is about on a level .


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