"It is Never Too Late to Mend": A Matter of Fact Romance : In Two Volumes, Volume 2 |
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50 cents Abner asked Australia Bathurst Black fellow brutus bude-lights burst bush calabash captain Carlo Crawley cried George cried Robinson dead dear diggers door earth eyes face fell fire fool gave George Fielding George's give gold gone Grassmere half hand head heard heart heaven honest hour hundred hunt Hurrah Isaac Isaac Levi Jacky Jenny judge Kalingalùnga laugh letter Levi Levi's look man's McLauchlan Meadows Meadows's mephisto mephistopheles miles months never Newborough niel gow night nugget old Merton opossum Peter Crawley poor Price 75 cents prison quartz replied robbed round savage sheep side sight soon Susan Sydney tell tent thing Thomas Robinson thought thousand pounds to-morrow told tomahawk took turned voice walked whispered woman wood words yards
Popular passages
Page 226 - ... in that distant land his English song. It swelled his little throat and gushed from him with thrilling force and plenty, and every time he checked his song to think of its theme, the green meadows, the quiet, stealing streams, the clover he first soared from, and the spring, he sang so well, a loud sigh from many a rough bosom, many a wild and wicked heart, told how tight the listeners had held their breath to hear him ; and when he swelled with song again, and poured forth with all his soul...
Page 226 - Like most singers, he kept them waiting a bit. But at last, just at noon, when the mistress of the house had warranted him to sing, the little feathered exile began as it were to tune his pipes.
Page 224 - Tom," replied George, opening his eyes, "it makes all the difference. I like to smell a flower — flower is not complete without smell — but I don't care if I never smell a bush till I die.
Page 227 - ... song. And so for a moment or two, years of vice rolled away like a dark cloud from the memory, and the past shone out in the song-shine: they came back, bright as the immortal notes that lighted them, those faded pictures and those fleeted days; the cottage, the old mother's tears when he left her without one grain of sorrow; the village church and its simple chimes; the...
Page 223 - Ay, lad ! it is very refreshing ; and it is Sunday, and we have got away from the wicked for an hour or two. But in England there would be a little white church out yonder, and a spire like an angel's forefinger pointing from the grass to heaven, and the lads in their clean...
Page 224 - The lakes are grass, and the rivers turn their backs on the sea and run into the heart of the land ; and the men would stand on their heads, but I have taken a thought, and I've found out why they don't.
Page 226 - ... glistening eyes of the rough diggers hanging on his voice, out burst in that distant land his English song. It swelled his little throat, and gushed from him with thrilling force and plenty...
Page 186 - ... by them, ie so paint them as a later age will be content to engrave them, would be the greatest writer ever lived: such is the force, weight, and number of the grand topics that lie this day on the world's face. I say that he who has eyes to see may now see greater and far more poetic things than human eyes have ever seen since our Lord and His Apostles and His miracles left the earth.
Page 225 - Why, Tom, am I the man to tempt you to do evil ?" asked George, hurt. "Why, no ! but for all that you proposed a lark." "Ay, but an innocent one, one more likely to lift your heart on high than to give you ill thoughts.