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This blog started out as a story of the journey Cassidy will take as she gets her sisterlocks on Oct 9th. But, as I began to post, and get comments, there is so much more to say..to talk about. Family, Black and White, God, love, adoption, the soul and somehow God brings all those things together here..
_f._ grace; *su ----* (_title of respect_) you (_cf._ *vuestra
----, Vd.*) *merecedor* deserving *merecer* merit, deserve *merito*
_m._ merit, worth *mes* _m._ month
*mesa* _f._ table *meter* put, put in; shut up; *----se* get in, get
under; *----se en camisa de once varas* interfere
in other people's affairs; *---- baza* put in a word *metodo* method
*mexicano* Mexican *Mexico* _m._ Mexico *mi* my *mi* me; myself
*miedo* _m._ fear *miembro*
_m._ member; limb *mientras* while *mil* thousand *milagro*
_m._ miracle *militar*
military *millar* _m._ thousand (_generally used in the pl._) *mimar*
pet, spoil *minino* _m. fam. for_ *gato* cat (_cf. English_ pussy)
*ministro* _m._
minister, secretary; *---- de Relaciones* Secretary of Foreign
Affairs *minuto* _m._. minute *mio* my; mine *mirada* _f._
glance *miramiento* _m._ circumspection *mirar* look, look at
*miserable* miserable *miseria* _f._ misery; trifle *misero* misera
and I was among the number who were immediately drawn to him by the
power and originality of "Gallegher,"
the story which first made his reputation. My intimate association with
him, however, was while he was with my regiment
in Cuba, He joined us immediately after landing, and was not merely
present
at but took part in the fighting. For example, at the Guasimas fight it
was
he, I think, with his field-glasses, who first placed the trench from
which the Spaniards were firing at the right wing of the regiment,
which right wing I, at that time, commanded. We were then able to make
out the trench, opened fire
on it, and drove out the Spaniards. He was indomitably cheerful under
hardships
and difficulties
and entirely indifferent
to his own personal safety or comfort. He so won the esteem and regard
of the regiment that he was one of the three men we made honorary
members of the regiment's association.
We gave him the same medal worn by our own members. He was as good an
American as ever lived and his heart flamed against cruelty and
injustice. His writings
form a text-book of Americanism which all our people would do well to
read at the present time. BY IRVIN S. COBB Almost the first letter I
received after I
undertook to make a living by writing for magazines was signed with the
name of Richard Harding Davis. I barely knew him; practically
we were strangers; but if he had been my own brother he could not have
written
more generously or more kindly than he did write in that
letter. He, a famous writer, had gone
out of his way to speak words of encouragement to me, an unknown
writer; had taken the time and the pains out of a busy life to cheer a
beginner in the
field where he had had so great a measure of success. When I came to
know him better, I
found out that such acts as these were characteristic of Richard Har
up with wild
looks and sought again to fly, but was
forcibly detained by one of the braves. "Oh, let me go--let me go!--to
his mother!" she
wailed piteously, for she felt herself to be helpless in the youth's
strong
grasp. "Has Rising Sun forgotten Bearpaw?" said the chief tenderly, as
he stood before her. "Yes--yes--no. I have not forgotten,"
she said, passing her
hand over her brow; "but, oh! let me go to her before I die!" "Rising
Sun shall not die. She is among friends now. The pale-faced enemies
who killed Little Beaver can do her no harm." "Killed him--enemies!"
murmured the poor girl, as if perplexed; then, quickly, "Yes--yes--he
is dead. Does not Rising Sun know
it? Did she not see it with her own eyes? He
was killed--killed!" The poor girl's
voice rose as she spoke until it was almost a shriek. "Rising Sun,"
said the chief, in a tone which the girl could not choose but obey,
"tell us who killed him?" "Killed him? No one killed him!" she
answered, with a return
of the perplexed look. "He missed his footing and fell over the cliff,
and the Great Spirit took
him." "Then the palefaces had nothing to do with it?" asked the chief
eagerly. "Oh! yes; the palefaces had to do with it. They were there,
and Rising Sun saw all that they did; but they did not see her, for
when she saw them coming she hid herself,
being in great fear. And she knew that Little Beaver was dead. No man
could fall from such a cliff and live. D
must; emulation was the order of the day. "Besides," he added, with
that sort of
cheerful hopelessness peculiar to his profession, "the boys are not
trying for the prize much, this year; and as for the girls, they would
probably lose their health very soon, at any rate, and may as well
devote it to a sacred cause."
Do not misunderstand me. The supposed object in this case is a good
one, just as the object in week-day schools is a good one,--to
communicate valuable knowledge and develop the
powers of the mind. The defect in policy, in both cases, appears to
be, that it totally defeats its own aim, renders
the employments hateful that should be delightful, and sacrifices the
whole powers, so far as its
influence goes, without any equivalent. All excess defeats itself.
As a grown man can work more in ten hours than in fifteen, taking
a series of days together, so a child can make more substantial mental
progress in five hours daily than in ten. Your child's mind is not an
earthen jar, to be filled by pouring into it; it is a delicate plant,
to be wisely and healthfully reared; and your wife might as well
attempt to enrich her mignon
He appeared to be omnipresent, and his self-importance was a sight
Phil
had never dreamed. He could not keep his eyes off him. "By George,
Cameron,
he's a wonder!" he laughed. Aleck had suppressed as far as possible
the story of the painted stakes and the deed, after sending out
warnings to the brethren to beware of two enticing strangers. The
surveyors had reaped a rich harvest and passed
on. Aleck made up his mind to go to Columbia, make the laws himself,
and never again trust a white man from the North or
South. The agent of the Freedman's Bureau at Piedmont tried to choke
him off the ticket. The League backed him to a man. He could neither
read nor write, but before he took to whiskey he had made a specialty
of revival exhortation, and his mouth was the most effective
thing about him. In this campaign he was an orator of no mean powers.
He knew what he wanted, and he
knew what his people wanted, and he put the thing in words so plain
that a wayfaring man, though a fool, couldn't make any
mistake about
it. As he bustled past, forming
a batta
on guard there in the inner chamber? BUTLER.
I have made myself acquainted with the place, I lead you through a
back door that's defended
By one man only. Me my rank and office Give access to the duke
at every hour. I'll go before
you--with one poinard-stroke
Cut Hartschier's windpipe, and make
way for you. DEVEREUX.
And when we are there, by what means shall we gain The duke's
bed-chamber, without
his alarming The servants of the court? for he has here A numerous
company of followers. BUTLER. The attendants fills the right wing: he
hates
bustle, And lodges
in the left wing quite alone. DEVEREUX. Were it well over--hey,
Macdonald! I Feel queerly on the occasion,
devil knows. MACDONALD. And I, too. 'Tis too great a personage.
People
will hold us for a brace of villains. BUTLER. In plenty, honor,
splendor--you may safely Laugh at the people's babble. DEVEREUX. If
the business Squares with one's honor--if that be quite certain.
BUTLER. Set your hearts quite at ease. Ye save for Ferdinand His
crown and empire. The reward can be No small one. DEVEREUX. And 'tis
his purpose to
dethrone the emperor? BUTLER. Yes! Yes! to rob him of his crown and
life. DEVEREUX. And must he
fall by the executioner's hands, Should we deliver him up to the
emperor Alive? BUTLER. It were his certain destiny. DEVEREUX. Well!
Well! Come then, Macdonald, he shall not Lie long in pain. [Exeunt
BUTLER through one door, MACDONALD and DEVEREUX
through the other. SCENE III. A saloon, terminated by a gallery,
which extends far into the background. WALLENSTIN sitting at a table.
The SWEDISH CAPTAIN standing
before him. WALLENSTEIN.
Commend me to your lord. I sympathize In his good
fortune; and if you have seen
me Deficient in the expressions of that joy, Which such a victory
might
well demand, Attribute it to no lack of good-will, For henceforth are
our fortunes one. Farewell, And for your trouble take my thanks.
To-morrow The
citadel shall be surrendered to you On your arrival. [The SWEDISH
CAPTAIN retires. WALLENSTEIN sits lost in thought, his eyes fixed
vacantly,
and his head sustained by his
hand. The COUNTESS TERZKY enter
Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the number of times it takes your breath away...