human
How many hats, and 'upper Bens,' and new coats, How many wretched duckings hast thou saved me Well--I have done--but must be still indebted To my umbrella!
gpt
The height of honesty:
human
Three friends once, in the course of conversation, Touch'd upon honesty: 'No virtue better,' Says Dick, quite lost in sweet self-admiration, 'I'm sure I'm honest;--ay--beyond the letter: You know the field I rent; beneath the ground My plough stuck in the middle of a furrow And there a pot of golden coins I found! My landlord has it, without fail, to-morrow.' Thus modestly his good intents he told: 'But stay,' says Bob,' we soon shall see who's best, A _stranger_ left with me uncounted gold! But I'll not touch it; which is honestest?' 'Your honest acts I've heard,' says Jack, 'but I Have done much better, would that all folks learn'd it, Mine is the highest pitch of honesty-- I borrow'd an umbrella and--_return'd it!!_'
gpt
Stolen from Dr. Buckland
human
Paterfamilias's Diary of Everybody's Tour ) I have kept journals of holiday travel _passim_, whereof I now make a brief mention. Six juvenile bits of authorship are before me, ranging through the summers of 1828 to 1835 inclusive; each neatly written in its note-book on the spot and at the time (therefore fresh and true) decorated with untutored sketches, and all full of interest ab least to myself in old memories, faded interests, and departed friends. As very rare survivals of the past (for who cares to keep as I have done his schoolboy journals of half a century ago?) I will give at haphazard from each in its order of time a short quotation by way of sample,--a brick to represent the house. My first, A.D. 1828, records how my good father took his sons through the factories of Birmingham and the potteries of Staffordshire, down an iron mine and a salt mine, &c. &c., thus teaching us all we could learn energetically and intelligently; it details also how we were hospitably entertained for a week in each place by the magnate hosts of Holkar Hall and Inveraray Castle; and how we did all touristic devoirs by lake, mountain, ruin, and palace: in fact, a short volume in MS., whereof quite at random here is a specimen page.
gpt
Melrose looks at a distance very little ruinous, but more like a perfect cathedral. While the horses were being changed we walked to see this Abbey, a splendid ruin, with two very light and beautiful oriel windows to the east and south, besides many smaller ones; the architecture being florid Gothic. The tracery round the capitals of pillars is in wonderful preservation, looking as fresh and sharp as on the first day of their creation; instead of the Grecian acanthus _Scotch kail_ being a favourite ornament. Some of the images still remain in their niches. In the east aisle is the grave of the famous wizard, Michael Scott, and at the foot of the tombstone a grim-looking figure,--query himself? In the ruined cloisters the tracery is of the most delicate description, foliage of trees and vegetables being carved on them. This Abbey was founded by David the First, but repaired by James the Fourth, which accounts for his altered crown appearing in stone on the walls,