By-the-by, I wonder if Mrs.Tod, who talks so much about 'gentlefolk,' knows that latter fact about you and me ?" "I think not; I hope not.

Oh, David! this one month at least let us get rid of the tan-yard." For I hated it more than ever now, in our quiet, free, Arcadian life; the very thought of it was insupportable, not only for myself, but for John.
He gently blamed me, yet, I think, he involuntarily felt much as I did, if he would have allowed himself so to feel.
"Who would guess now that I who stand here, delighting myself in this fresh air and pleasant view, this dewy common, all thick with flowers--what a pretty blue cluster that is at your foot, Phineas!--who would guess that all yesterday I had been stirring up tan-pits, handling raw hides?
Faugh! I wonder the little harebells don't sicken in these, my hands--such ugly hands, too!" "Nonsense, John! they're not so bad, indeed; and if they were, what does it matter ?" "You are right; lad; it does not matter.

They have done me good service, and will yet, though they were not made for carrying nosegays." "There is somebody besides yourself plucking posies on the Flat.

See, how large the figure looks against the sky.

It might be your Titaness, John-- 'Like Proserpina gathering flowers, Herself the fairest--' -- no, not fairest; for I declare she looks very like your friend Grey-gown--I beg her pardon--Miss March." "It is she," said John, so indifferently that I suspect that fact had presented itself to him for at least two minutes before I found it out.
"There's certainly a fatality about your meeting her." "Not the least.