"All the better. You'll be able to bring me back several dozen skins, and heaps of claws, and plenty of those funny little bones that make into brooches and are supposed to bring such good luck."
Not long after this conversation a chance observer might have seen a young man of aristocratic bearing, crisp blond curls and noble face, walking with elastic strides toward Piræus. He was clad in the short dress of a laborer, called an exomis, and upon his head was a narrow-brimmed, close-fitting cap. As he neared the harbor he proceeded cautiously, desirous of observing all that was taking place without being seen. To his consternation he saw that three boats with their occupants had already been launched upon the sea. Vexed with himself for having arrived so late he scanned the people who remained upon the shore waiting to be assigned to other boats. It was almost unbelievable but it was true! The sun unmistakably revealed a head of auburn hair and close to it the bullet-head and thick florid neck of a young man. Zopyrus, for it was he who clad in the woolen exomis instead of his customary linen chiton, watched the two closely, pulled the brim of his cap well over his eyes and approached the waiting youths and maidens. Several he recognized as the sons and daughters of prominent Athenians. Another filled boat was leaving, the rowers diligently plying the oars. It was apparent that Corinna and the heavy-set youth would be of the number to fill the next boat. Disguising his walk, Zopyrus made his way quickly to the waiting skiff and approached one of the oarsmen.
Dermot, her lover, went to England, seeking aid to recover his kingdom of Leinster. In a year he returns with a band of Welsh mercenaries, and marches to Dublin; but is again defeated by the confederate kings, and obliged to pay a hundred ounces of gold to O’Rourke of Breffny, “for the wrong he had done him respecting his wife,” and to give up as hostage to King Roderick his only son. But while parleying with the Irish311 kings, Dermot was secretly soliciting English aid, and not unsuccessfully.
When the captain got back he found Polly sitting on the floor, with her lap full of pictures, and Dicky on the floor too, explaining them to her. The captain was quite in the cabin before Dicky heard a step. Then he jumped up, stood perfectly rigid, and blushed scarlet. It was bad enough to be caught at boyish tricks on the quarter-deck, which had sometimes happened, but to be found playing on the floor with a little girl was a reflection on his manhood. However, the captain did not seem very angry. He only said, "You may go, sir, and don't let me have to speak to you again about your personal appearance!" and Dicky fancied he saw something like a smile on Captain Sarsfield's face. Dicky said, "Yes, sir," and bowed to the captain, and then to the little girl.
"Who is she?"
Macfarren had never before been ashamed of his name, but he wished he could have said he was a Cecil, a Fairfax, a Beauclerk, or any other proud Elizabethan name. He could only say, with a kind of proud humility:
From where we stood we could look out over the country and see in several places the elaborate and expensive works that had been erected for pumping water by steam for the purposes of irrigation. One of the small farmers I visited had a small engine in the back of his house which he used to irrigate a garden of cauliflower about four acres in extent. This man lived in a little low stone and stucco house, but he was, I learned, one of the well-to-do class. He had an engine for pumping water which cost him, he said, about 0. I saw as I entered his place a little stream of water, not much larger than my thumb, drizzling out of the side of the house and trickling out into the garden. He said it cost him between and a day to run that engine. The coal he used came from England.
A flickering halo of pinkish light appeared. He sat up, startled. He was looking at something that resembled a suit of medieval armor.详情 ➢
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