disinheritance

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see the people tearing down on the run from every which way, some of them putting on their coats as they come.  Pretty soon we was in the middle of a crowd, and the noise of the tramping was like a soldier march.  The windows and dooryards was full; and every minute somebody would say, over a fence: “Is it _them_?” And somebody trotting along with the gang would answer back and say: “You bet it is.” When we got to the house the street in front of it was packed, and the three girls was stand

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would destroy him by the hands of another."--Coleridge, p. 156. seq. 246 --_Thrice at the battlements._ "The art military of the Homeric age is upon a level with the state of navigation just described, personal prowess decided every thing; the night attack and the ambuscade, although much esteemed, were never upon a large scale. The chiefs fight in advance, and enact almost as much as the knights of romance. The siege of Troy was as little like a modern siege as a captain in the guards is like Achilles. There is no mention of a ditch or any other line or work round the town, and the wall itself was accessible without a ladder. It was probably a vast mound of earth with a declivity outwards. Patroclus thrice mounts it in armour. The Trojans are in no respects blockaded, and receive assistance from their allies to the very end."--Coleridge, p. 212. 247 --_Ciconians._--A people of Thrace, near the Hebrus. 248 --_They wept._ "Fast by the manger stands the inactive steed, And, sunk in sorrow, hangs his languid head; He stands, and careless of his golden grain, Weeps his associates and his master slain." Merrick's Tryphiodorus, v. 18-24. "Nothing is heard upon the mountains now, But pensive herds that for their master low, Straggling and comfortless about they rove, Unmindful of their pasture and their love." Moschus, id. 3, parodied, _ibid._ "To close the pomp, Ćthon, the steed of state, Is led, the funeral of his lord to wait. Stripp'd of his trappings, with a sullen pace He walks, and the big tears run rolling down his face." Dryden's Virgil, bk. ii 249 --_Some brawny bull._ "Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring Darts, at the moment