At such time, also, the restless torrent (whose fury has driven content away through many a short day and long night) is not in such desperate hurry to bury its troubles in the breast of Tees, but spreads them in language that sparkles to the sun, or even makes leisure to turn into corners of deep brown-study about the people on its banks--especially, perhaps, the miller.
But never had this impetuous water more reason to stop and reflect upon people of greater importance, who called it their own, than now when it was at the lowest of itself, in August of the year 1801.
From time beyond date the race of Yordas had owned and inhabited this old place.

From them the river, and the river's valley, and the mountain of its birth, took name, or else, perhaps, gave name to them; for the history of the giant Yordas still remains to be written, and the materials are scanty.

His present descendants did not care an old song for his memory, even if he ever had existence to produce it.

Piety (whether in the Latin sense or English) never had marked them for her own; their days were long in the land, through a long inactivity of the Decalogue.
And yet in some manner this lawless race had been as a law to itself throughout.

From age to age came certain gifts and certain ways of management, which saved the family life from falling out of rank and land and lot.