Still, in the midst of all this work, there came times when in a light-er vein he would show mirth at in-ci-dents as they came up. A bus-i-ness trip had to be made. A group of small girls was met at the house of a friend. They gazed at the great man as if they would speak to him. He kind-ly asked them if he could help them in an-y way. One of them said that she would dear-ly like to have him write his name for her.
But the light wind plays with the boat at will;
Lo, the darting bowling orb!
To Thom-as Lin-coln this was good news. He was glad of a chance to make an-oth-er home. He knew, too, that the same sick-ness which took his first wife from him had come back, and that he must make a quick move if he would save those who were left. This was in March, 1830, when A-bra-ham was a score and one years old. He made up his mind to see his folks to their new home since go they would.
Strikes are a favourite weapon of the Socialists when they are seeking to force some political measure through parliament. Until a few years ago it seemed that the "general strike," in which all the labourers of a city or several cities, by suddenly laying down their tools and refusing to return to their work, sought to force some concession by the Government, was the means by which the Socialists proposed to overturn all the existing governments in Europe. Since the failure of the revolution in Russia and of similar movements on a smaller scale in Italy and elsewhere, this form of strike seems to have fallen into disrepute.
“Yes, surely, if you wish it, my dear,” said Mr Waring. Something moist had touched his forehead, which was too warm to be rain. He waited politely till she had gone before he wiped it off. It was the edge of a tear, hot, miserable, full of anger as well as pain, which had made that mark upon his high white forehead. It made him pause for a minute or two in his reading. “Poor little girl!” he said, with a sigh. Perhaps he was not so insensible as he seemed.
De white man bil’d de big rock fence,
"Because he was afraid her mind might have been poisoned by some warped story of his former engagement, some----"
"I'm not at all sure," Under-Secretary Sternwheeler said, "that I fully understand the necessity for your ... ah ... absenting yourself from your post of duty, Mr. Retief. Surely this matter could have been dealt with in the usual way—assuming any action is necessary."
Then Mackellar bethought him of an extra job that was afloat just now in Midwestburg—a job at trucking explosives by night from the tesladite factory, over on the heights, to the railroad. It was a job few people cared for. The roads were joggly. And tesladite was a ticklish explosive. Even the company’s offer of fifty dollars a week, at short hours, had not brought forth many volunteer chauffeurs.
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