"Thus," says the first writer of Raleigh's life, "have we seen how Sir Walter Raleigh who had been one of the greatest scourges of Spain, was made a sacrifice to it."
His money was spent, his ships shattered, his men in mutiny, and hardest of all to bear, his young son Walter lay dead in far Guiana, slain in a fight with Spaniards.
His mother frequently asks us over, that she may have the pleasure of her dear Walter
's company; and this time she had invited us to a dinner-party, and got together as many of the country gentry as were within reach to meet us.
Let Walter Hartright, teacher of drawing, aged twenty-eight years, be heard first.
When the writer of these introductory lines (Walter Hartright by name) happens to be more closely connected than others with the incidents to be recorded, he will describe them in his own person.
"Ah," Walter Merritt Emory murmured, with a vastitude of confidence and assurance.
Daughtry," Walter Merritt Emory went on enthusiastically, while he held the steward's eyes with his and while all the time the live end of the cigar continued to rest against Kwaque's finger, "the older I get the more convinced I am that there are too many ill-advised and hasty operations."
There she learned to love old Farmer Franklin's son Walter. Farmers have been loved and wedded and turned out to grass in less time.
It was in this shaded and raspberried lane that Walter had wooed and won her.
Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs changed naturally into pity and contempt as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century; and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed.
For this was Sir Walter
Carey, an official of such eminence in Dublin Castle that nothing short of the case of Prince Michael would have brought him on such a journey in the middle of the night.
was not expecting an application from this source for the next ten years.