A sentimental journey

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Page 81 - ... breathed through his lattice ! — His children But here my heart began to bleed ; and I was forced to go on with another part of the portrait. He was sitting upon the ground, upon a little straw, in the furthest corner of his dungeon, which was alternately...
Page 81 - ... his chair and bed: a little calendar of small sticks was laid at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had passed there; he had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap.
Page 79 - ... I can't get out," said the starling. God help thee ! said I, — but I'll let thee out, cost what it will ; so I turned about the cage to get the door : it was twisted and double twisted so fast with wire there was no getting it open without pulling the cage to pieces. — I took both hands to it. The bird flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and, thrusting his head through the trellis, pressed his breast against it, as if impatient. I fear, poor creature, said I, I cannot...
Page 56 - ... tis in the next room, and the truth of the buckle may be tried in it, without more ado, in a single moment. In honest truth, and upon a more candid revision of the matter, The French expression professes more than it performs. I think I can see the precise and distinguishing marks of national characters more in these nonsensical minutite, than in the most important matters of state...
Page 45 - Fleur offered him money. The mourner said he did not want it: it was not the value of the ass, but the loss of him. The ass, he said, he was assured, loved him: and upon this, told them a long story of a mischance upon their passage over the Pyrenean mountains, which had separated them from each other three days; during which time the ass had sought him as much as he had sought the ass, and that they had scarce either ate or drank till they met. "Thou hast one comfort, friend...
Page 81 - ... there. He had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap. As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down, shook his head, and went on with his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs as he turned his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle. He gave a deep sigh : I saw the iron enter into his soul. I burst into tears — I could not sustain the picture...
Page 79 - Tis thou, thrice sweet and gracious goddess, addressing myself to LIBERTY, whom all in public or in private worship, whose taste is grateful, and ever will be so, till NATURE herself shall change no tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle or...
Page 79 - I can't get out," said the starling. I stood looking at the bird : and to every person who came through the passage, it ran fluttering to the side towards which they approach'd it, with the same lamentation of its captivity, — " I can't get out,
Page 78 - ... tis some tyrant of a distemper and not of a man which holds you in it, the evil vanishes, and you bear the other half without complaint. I was interrupted in the heyday of this soliloquy with a voice which I took to be of a child, which complained
Page 32 - Tis nothing but a huge cock-pit, 13 said he— I wish you had said nothing worse of the Venus of Medicis, replied I — for in passing through Florence, I had heard he had fallen foul upon the goddess, and used her worse than a common strumpet, without the least provocation in nature. I...

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