Many of these young people will jump up twenty times a day and run to dabble the tips of their fingers in water, after touching the most inoffensive objects.
This composition was written in a singular, sharp-pointed, long, slender hand, on a kind of wavy, ribbed paper.

There was something strangely suggestive about the look of it, but exactly of what, Miss barley either could not or did not try to think.

The subject of the paper was The Mountain,--the composition being a sort of descriptive rhapsody.

It showed a startling familiarity with some of the savage scenery of the region.

One would have said that the writer must have threaded its wildest solitudes by the light of the moon and stars as well as by day.