The Professor at the Breakfast Table, Band 1

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D. Douglas, 1890
 

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Seite 216 - Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls, That they might answer him. — And they would shout Across the watery vale, and shout again, Responsive to his call, — with quivering peals, And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud Redoubled and redoubled...
Seite 75 - There's a boy we pretend, with a three-decker brain, That could harness a team with a logical chain; When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire, We called him "The Justice,
Seite 75 - Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night? That's our "Member of congress" we say when we chaff; There's the Reverend. What's his name? — don't make me laugh. That boy with the grave mathematical look Made believe he had written a wonderful book, And the ROYAL SOCIETY thought it was true! So they chose him right in; a good joke it was, too!
Seite 76 - You hear that boy laughing? You think he's all fun ; But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done; The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all!
Seite 75 - Where the snow-flakes fall thickest there 's nothing can freeze! Was it snowing I spoke of ? Excuse the mistake! Look close, — you will see not a sign of a flake ! We want some new garlands for those we have shed, — And these are white roses in place of the red. We 've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told, Of talking (in public) as if we were old: — That boy we call " Doctor," and this we call "Judge ; " It's a neat little fiction, — of course it 's all fudge.
Seite 53 - consistent,' — but be simply true. " The longer I live, the more I am satisfied of two things : first, that the truest lives are those that are cut rose-diamond fashion, with many facets answering to the many-planed aspects of the world about them ; secondly, that Society is always trying in some way or other to grind us down to a single flat surface. It is hard work to resist this grinding-down action.
Seite 74 - If there has, take him out, without making a noise. Hang the Almanac's cheat and the Catalogue's spite! Old Time is a liar! We're twenty tonight ! We're twenty! We're twenty! Who says we are more? ¡ He's tipsy, — young jackanapes! — show him the door! "Gray temples at twenty?"— Yes!
Seite 77 - Yes, we're boys, always playing with tongue or with pen. And I sometimes have asked, shall we ever be men? Shall we always be youthful and laughing and gay. Till the last dear companion drops smiling away? Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray! The stars of its winter, the dews of its May ! And when we have done with our life-lasting toys, Dear Father, take care of Thy children, the boys.
Seite 93 - We must have a weak spot or two in a character before we can love it -much. People that do not laugh or cry, or take more of anything than is good for them, or use anything but dictionary-words, are admirable subjects for biographies. But -we don't always care most for those flat-pattern flowers that press best in the herbarium.
Seite 96 - With its smell of mastic- varnish and its flash of ivory keys! Then the children all grew fretful in the restlessness of joy ; For the boy would push his sister, and the sister crowd the boy, Till the father asked for quiet in his grave paternal way, But the mother hushed the tumult with the words, "Now, Mary, play.

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