Identifier: talesofadventure00lond (find matches)
Title: Tales of adventure and stories of travel of fifty years ago
Year: 1893 (1890s)
Authors:
Subjects: Voyages and travels Adventure and adventurers
Publisher: London : Sampson Low, Marston and Company, Limited
Contributing Library: Harold B. Lee Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University

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a hained hog-fence, or like the four-nooked parks in this country Hout awa, said Thomas j I have heard a that before : I only came owerthe knowe now to tell you, that, if you have seen the king,the king has seen mey (me). And so he returned with ajocund heart, assuring his friends it had done him mucklegude to settle accounts with Andro. Jocere hcec—as the old Laird of Bestalrig writes to theEarl of Gowrie ; farewell, my old, tried, and dear friend, offorty long years. Our enjoyments must now be of a cha-racter less vivid than those we have shared together, But still at our lot it were vain to repine,Youth cannot return, or the days of Lang Syne. Yours affectionately,—Walter Scott.Abbotsford : August 2, 1827. 80 THE LADYS BREAM While my lady sleepeth, The dark-blue heaven is bright;Soft the moonbeam creepeth Round her bower all night.Thou gentle, gentle breeze, While my lady slumbers,Waft lightly through the trees, Echoes of my numbers,The dreaming ear to please. Spanish Serenade.
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THE LADYS DREAIBy Thomas Stothard, R.A. 81 TO BE READ AT DUSKBy Charles Dickens One, two, three, four, five. There were five of them. Five couriers, sitting on a bench outside the convent onthe summit of the Great St. Bernard in Switzerland, lookingat the remote heights stained by the setting sun as if amighty quantity of red wine had been broached upon themountain-top, and had not yet had time to sink into thesnow. This is not my simile. It was made for the occasion bythe stoutest courier, who was a German. None of theothers took any more notice of it than they took of me,sitting on another bench on the other side of the conventdoor, smoking my cigar, like them, and—also like them—looking at the reddened snow, and at the lonely shed hardby, where the bodies of belated travellers, dug out of it,slowly wither away, knowing no corruption in that coldregion. The wine upon the mountain-top soaked in as we looked ;the mountain became white ; the sky, a very dark blue ;the wind rose ; a

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