Always I hear it saying, 'I did it, I did it.' And it says that all day long.

And then I think of my daughter, and I cannot work." The moistness was in her old eyes again, and she had to wipe it away before she could go on stitching.
I heard the Bishop stumbling up the stairs, and I opened the door.

What a spectacle he was.

On his back he carried half a sack of coal, with kindling on top.

Some of the coal dust had coated his face, and the sweat from his exertions was running in streaks.