[Honsure-messenger] N the forced reflection, that, real as he looked, the poor caitif

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Buckmaster rinde****@bloqs*****
2009年 12月 6日 (日) 03:54:58 JST


N ever-shifting variety, breaking continually into new modes of fun, yet
with a harmonious propriety through all. Their steps, their voices,
appear free as the wind, but keep consonance with a strain of music
inaudible to us. Young men and boys, on the other hand, play, according
to recognized law, old, traditionary games, permitting no caprioles of
fancy, but with scope enough for the outbreak of savage instincts. For,
young or old, in play or in earnest, man is prone to be a brute.
Especially is it delightful to see a vigorous young girl run a race,
with her head thrown back, her limbs moving more friskily than they
need, and an air between that of a bird and a young colt. But
Priscilla's peculiar charm, in a foot-race, was the weakness and
irregularity with which she ran. Growing up without exercise, except to
her poor little fingers, she had never yet acquired the perfect use of
her legs. Setting buoyantly forth, therefore, as if no rival less swift
than Atalanta could compete with her, she ran falteringly, and often
tumbled on the grass. Such an incident--though it seems too
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