Cuthbert


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Cuthbert

(ˈkʌθbət)
n
(Biography) Saint. ?635–87 ad, English monk; bishop of Lindisfarne. Feast day: March 20

Cuth•bert

(ˈkʌθ bərt)

n.
Saint, A.D. c635–687, English bishop.
References in classic literature ?
Cuthbert Grayne was perhaps more of a criminologist than either a lawyer or a policeman, but in his more barbarous surroundings he had proved successful in turning himself into a practical combination of all three.
Dawn had begun to break abrupt and white when Cuthbert Grayne turned out the lights in the library and came out on to the links.
After a pause, Cuthbert Grayne said, "And what are we to say to the newspapers?
All right--I'll overtake you and Cuthbert in five minutes; don't stop; I give my word that I will, Felix.
Then when Sir Ghelent saw that of going back there was none, he prayed to good Saint Cuthbert, and setting spurs into his steed rode forward bravely and most joyously.
Cuthbert to undertake their defence and bring her round to a reasonable view of things.
Cuthbert dropped at once his eyeglass and his inquiring gaze, and held out his hand.
Cuthbert, for letting me grow up and be so shamefully imposed upon, but of course I don't blame you as I do the others.
Extracts are from a letter of Cuthbert, afterwards Abbot of Wearmouth and Jarrow, to his friend Cuthwin.
Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies' eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde's Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs.
Thomas Lynde-- a meek little man whom Avonlea people called "Rachel Lynde's husband"--was sowing his late turnip seed on the hill field beyond the barn; and Matthew Cuthbert ought to have been sowing his on the big red brook field away over by Green Gables.
Anne had her little domain in the speckless order one would expect of anyone brought up by Marilla Cuthbert, and felt that she could gad shoreward with a clear conscience.