Putnam's Magazine: Original Papers on Literature, Science, Art, and National Interests, Volumen2 |
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Página 6
It rep- A single head , of cabinet size , belong- ing to this class , is one of the most charming things I ever saw . resents a girl , dressed as a Muse , hold- ing her tablets in one hand , while with the other she thoughtfully touches ...
It rep- A single head , of cabinet size , belong- ing to this class , is one of the most charming things I ever saw . resents a girl , dressed as a Muse , hold- ing her tablets in one hand , while with the other she thoughtfully touches ...
Página 25
Mrs. Bellows did not open her mind as freely , on these subjects , to Abel , as she would have done , had not a half- guilty consciousness that she was hold- ing up the faults of her husband to a stranger , restrained her .
Mrs. Bellows did not open her mind as freely , on these subjects , to Abel , as she would have done , had not a half- guilty consciousness that she was hold- ing up the faults of her husband to a stranger , restrained her .
Página 35
... was to get hold of Elizabeth's disen- gaged hand and squeeze it . The air with which she withdrew it , and said , " Go on , Prince , " was rather discourag- ing , but he managed to say , " You've been crying , haven't you ?
... was to get hold of Elizabeth's disen- gaged hand and squeeze it . The air with which she withdrew it , and said , " Go on , Prince , " was rather discourag- ing , but he managed to say , " You've been crying , haven't you ?
Página 36
Won't you give me an answer , Miss Lissa , -just the least little thread to hold on by , until you've time to think it over ? There's ma on the portico now ; please do tell this horse to stop , for he won't mind me , " despairingly .
Won't you give me an answer , Miss Lissa , -just the least little thread to hold on by , until you've time to think it over ? There's ma on the portico now ; please do tell this horse to stop , for he won't mind me , " despairingly .
Página 37
It sobs with the sob the children smother , Whose young lives no child - joys ever hold ; It wails with the wailing of the mother , Whose thin lips are whitening in the cold . It moans with the moaning of the dying , When the night ...
It sobs with the sob the children smother , Whose young lives no child - joys ever hold ; It wails with the wailing of the mother , Whose thin lips are whitening in the cold . It moans with the moaning of the dying , When the night ...
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