Game Of Chance Casino Xanthippe Pronunciation

Search the history of over billion web pages on the Internet. Games Vectrex Atari Full text of " Every-day pronunciation " See other formats ii [lii! IH i l[i i Ii ill! For the preface, then, I have naught left but to acknowledge my obHga- tions, which makes it few of words and full of import.

I am, of course, most heavily indebted to all dictionary makers, on whose work I have of necessity depended so much that I can acknowledge my indebtedness only in general.

Feature all the Xanthippe Of Casino Chance Game Pronunciation

For encouraging companionship and scholarly help in the first stages of the work, I am most heartily grateful to Mr. Payne, who in more fortunate circumstances would have been my collaborator through- out.

For faithful and accurate work on some of the less inspiring parts of the task I am indebted to Miss Florence El well, of Amherst; and to Miss Agnes V. Nash, of the staff of the Amherst College Library. Amhebst College, April, A third ideal is possible, that of this book, which is in- tended to tell us how we may pronounce without reproach.

The idea of the compiler is not Thus gods are made, And whoso makes them otherwise shall die. There is no law of lan- guage that has Game Of Chance Casino Xanthippe Pronunciation been broken times beyond number, that cannot be broken as many times again.

Such gen- eralizations as we make in regard to language approach sometimes more and sometimes less nearly to univer- sality, but it is safe to say that not one of them is truly a universal.

Certainly, the more the better. If they are before us, they lure us on. If they are behind us, they demonstrate our progress.

A standard should be at once as free and as steady as the needle of the compass; it should be valued for its power to show us where we are going, Junket Casino Definition it must not be taken to set a limit to the advance.

A fixed standard is good only when it is fixed at a given distance before us as we move. If the purist calls for unchanging standards and universal conformity, we may be glad that he cannot get what he wants. If what he calls for is intelligent direction, a view of some goal not necessarily ultimate, and determination of the road, he stands for the best kind of progress.

In spite of all this, we do not and need not dwell in chaos. In pronunciation, whatever is, is right, only in the sense that every man may pronounce as he pleases if he is willing to take the consequences. The sturdy bar- rier between us and chaos in pronunciation, as in all matters of language, is the social penalty on eccentricity. Conventionality is the only law of pronunciation that has any teeth. The Scope and Aim of This Book The object Game Of Chance Casino Xanthippe Pronunciation this book, then, is to indicate a pro- nunciation of each word listed that would in most walks of society pass without challenge, that if challenged can be defended as widely acceptable among good speakers.

For such pronunciations I do not claim authority, but merely common-sense, experience, and access to the records such as they are. I have included approximately ten thousand words, most of them in our every-day vocabulary; some that are more or less technical, that is, words of every-day use to limited numbers of speak- ers; current foreign words and phrases, including such help as I could get on the sounds of proper names and other words that have become current since the outbreak of the present war.

I have included a limited vocabulary of Scotch words, not, of course, with the expectation of turning any Yankee into a complete Scot, but with the hope of lowering a little the barrier that too often stands between Americans and the enjoyment of Scottish poetry.

I have included a list, which I hope is large enough to be useful, of names from literature of real and fictitious per- sons and places. All these are in a single list, alpha- betically arranged from beginning to end.

How to pronounce CHANEL the right way

In no case have I shown an incorrect or undesirable pronunciation, not even to justify my inclusion of a word. If a reader does not see how one or another of these words could possibly be mispronounced, let him rejoice and pass on, secure in the belief that ''what he doesn't know won't hurt him. I included it because I had asked a bearer of the name whether any one ever mispronounced it.

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I do not profess to believe it better in any general way than others, but merely better for the par- ticular purpose in hand. It is not scientifically accurate, but is as accurate as is compatible with the requisite degree of simplicity. For most of us, ease of comprehen- sion in such a system is more important than it is to carry out the shades of variation in vowel sounds to the fifth or sixth decimal place.

I have thought it best, there- fore, to use no letters but the familiar ones, Game Of Chance Casino Xanthippe Pronunciation to indi- cate their sounds by diacritical marks. These marks are explained by the key words which are to be found at the bottom of each page.

The assumption is that the sounds of these words on the tongues of American speak- ers are as nearly uniform as anything we can get, and are near enough to imiformity to be useful for the purpose. Vowel sounds, more than consonant soimds, are like colors in the infinite nmnber of gradations and combinations of which they are capable, and in the fact that the agree- ment on the standards is general but not universal, and that on the shades and combinations it is not even general.

It should be xmderstood, then, that whatever discussion this book contains of the nature and use of English sounds is offered not as a rule or law, but merely as generalization so far as the process seems safe. Stress Just as Install Casino Games IS diflScult, if not impossible, to express in print the infinite gradations in vowel sounds, so also does the matter of accent or stress present almost insuperable difficulties to one who wishes to express the whole truth in intelligible notation.

In the dictionaries it seems fairly simple. There, stresses are of two grades, ''primary'' and "secondary. We hear in speech a thousand gradations in amount of stress. We hear surprising variations in the position of the stress in the speech of persons whom we know to be careful speakers, and who believe themselves to be consistent.

One is sentence modulation. In one sentence it may be one syllable of a given word that finds itself at the crest of a wave; in another, another. The word automobile in our daily speech finds itself sometimes with its middle syllable on the crest of the wave, sometimes in the trough with the two ends on the crests, — there is scarcely a possible variation that does not occur, aut'omobile, automo'bile, automobile', aut'omobile', and the dictionaries know not where to have it.

Sometimes, again, it works the other way — the attempt to give a vowel its quality leads to an apparent misplacing of the stress.

If you attempt to give the e in the third syllable of interesting its full value, you will certainly be accused of saying interest'ing. In a word, we emphasize every vowel we pro- nounce carefully, especially if we do it consciously. Con- versely, we tend to reduce to the obscure or neutral sound all vowels in imstressed syllables. The vowels in un- stressed you, are, and, and the, or in combinations like ''gonna," "gotta," and "ottermobile," might be any- thing, a, e, i, 0, OT um.

This fact accounts for many of the difficulties of those who spell by ear alone; "sentance" and ''accidently" represent the phonetic fact quite as well as the conventional forms. The discussion of stress might be greatly prolonged, but it would be to small profit imless it were to lead to results I cannot hope to attain here. The point is that the facts, even if I knew them, are Game Of Chance Casino Xanthippe Pronunciation complicated to be represented by any system of notation which I could expect Sizzling Hot Online Casino one to read easily.

I have, therefore, marked the stressed syllable in each word as it is usually understood. So much can at least be read at a glance, and it is usually all that is required. Family Names I have omitted many British and American family names that are included in other manuals, because I recognize the right of any family to pronounce its name as it pleases, and I do not recognize the right of the lexi- cographer to tell them how they "ought" to pronounce it.

In some cases we know how eminent individuals pronounced the names they bore, — we know how the poet Cowper rhymed his name, for example, but his prommciation lays no injunction on other bearers of the name. The same thing is true of com- mon baptismal names, both as to spelling and prommcia- tion.

As a rule, we like to exhibit ' our familiarity with languages we know, and are prone to denounce as affectation exhibition on the part of others of familiarity with languages we do not know. To one who knows Spanish but not Norwegian it may sound barbarous to hear Don Juan and Do7i Quixote sounded as if they were English names, and affected to hear Peer Gynt sotmded as if it were anything else.

It may be the more readily imderstood if we reflect on the important changes in language which have been brought about primarily, it is safe to say, by local variations in pro- nunciation.

It was carried into Gaul where Gallic tongues turned it differently and made it ultimately into modem French; into Iberia, where changes similar in process but differ- ent in nature and effect turned it at last into Spanish.

Latin has never died.

Modem Italian is just as clearly Latin as English is Anglo-Saxon; the history is continu- ous from one to the other.

Latin has changed greatly, but it is vigorous in itself, and in its descendants. And just as French comes from Latin, so Latin comes from something earlier, — at the beginning of the process, we can only guess. It is difference of pro- nunciation that makes languages, and we may perhaps be glad for the vulgarities of speech which have relieved, a continent or two from complete uniformity of language.

But relief from monotony is not necessarily progress. It was long customary for linguists to speak of the ''de- cay'' of language in discussing the changes it undergoes in centuries of use, the reduction, for example, to mono- syllables of the polysyllabic forms of the earlier stages. But a Danish student, and friend, of the English language, Professor Otto Jespersen, has expressed in his Progress in Language a theory that has convinced most of his readers, to the effect that popular short cuts in pronunciation which have led to the loss of most inflectional endings in English have been gain, in that the change has brought ease and flexibility to the language with no loss of clearness or accuracy that need make us regret it.

As one of his Casino Games Ariva The Trader Paper Indianapolis examples, he brings up again the oft- cited instance of the "decay'' of the Gothic habaidedeima, which by rolling for centuries on various more or less Ger- manic tongues has become the EngUsh had.

The tenor of his comment on the process is, "The English form is preferable, on the principle that any one who has to choose between walking one mile and four miles will, other things being equal, prefer the shorter cut. K had has suffered from wear and tear in the long course of time, this means that the wear and tear of the people now using this form of speech is less than if they were still cumbered with the old giant habaidedeima. The simplification does not mean loss of power, any more than would the use of a small engine to do the work of fifteen yoke of oxen.

But even the briefest historical per- spective will show us that it is a force too important to be dismissed as mere ''vulgarity," too strong to be danmied back by the frown of the schoolmistress. Just as we to-day, rightly enough, frown on gonna and gotta for going to and got to, so doubtless did our forefathers frown on the slipshod speech that joined he and utan into butan, prefixed on and shortened it to ahutan, then to almte, and finally to about. If gotta for must, and gonna for abovl to, prove useful auxiliaries, vulgar pronunciation will have shown us helpful short cuts in our speech; if not, they will probably disappear.

Of one thing we may be sure, they will be subjected to fiery tests, and if they survive we need have no fear of them. The fact that vul- gar pronunciation has helped language to eflSciency does not mean that its tendency is always for good and that Game Of Chance Casino Xanthippe Pronunciation is to be encouraged and practised.

Opposition must Maryland Live Casino Poker School be applied to it in order to test its incessant experiments in sounds and forms.

Their opposition is, and should be, vigor- ous and protracted; only so may we be sure that no changes will, become permanent in good usage and the written language unless they make for simplicity and flexibility without impairing necessary clearness. On this question probably no one can speak with authority, but anyone may argue from antecedent prob- ability.

One who has ideals of pronimciation is usually one who has or aspires to some degree of refinement and education. Dialect variations are extreme among unlettered people, and slight among the highly educated. The ideal at its best is usually some such combination of simplicity of sound with accuracy and completeness of expression as Professor Jespersen calls progress.

If there is more conservatism among the educated than among the unlettered, it is because they hold the double rather than the single ideal.

Even among those who hold nearly the same ideals, we do not get complete uniformity of speech, however the dictionaries and manuals of pro- nunciation may represent us. Still less likelihood would there be of dead uniformity if the ideal should spread to. The shaping forces are the thrust toward simplicity on the one Game Of Chance Casino Xanthippe Pronunciation, and that toward accuracy of expression on the other.

If the amount and direction of these two forces could be ac- curately measured, we might be able to calculate the resultant, but we have not been able to do so as yet.

Begin, players have Of Pronunciation Casino Game Xanthippe Chance

The only care we can exercise is as to the amount and direction of such force as each of us has. The Duty of the Individual The duty of each one of us is to exercise such intelli- gence as he has. If you have a strong, original mind, you may be a leader; if not, you must conform, as you do in matters of dress, to the best usage you can find.

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On Thursday, Cronan as well as industry representatives and a regulator participated in a panel discussion at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas.

Alan Feldman, MGM's executive vice president of global industry affairs, said the industry over the past two decades has focused on tackling the issue "when the fun stops" — also the name of a problem gambling awareness campaign — but the company is expanding its efforts to address the concerns even before the activity stops being fun and affordable.

What we should be doing is having a regular ongoing dialogue with our customers to make sure that what they're doing is safe and fun for them and their families," he said. The company later this year will roll out a new responsible gaming program at its properties in Las Vegas and other states.

The lone regulator on the panel, Nevada Gaming Control Board member Terry Johnson, said the next challenge for the industry that fuels the Silver State's economy is the legalization of recreational marijuana.

He said existing gambling regulations address impairment from alcohol, but the statutes and regulations are "silent" on marijuana impairment. Back pain affects millions of lives, but Vanderbilt University engineers are developing something that might prevent it: If you're curious why there are some weird procedures e. This information is obviously valuable to casino managers, but there are additional explanations geared towards casino management.

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Absolutely essential reading for anyone in the field, and an absolutely fascinating read for those with interest in this topic. These, with a number of bright young men, made a gay party. Every moonlight night it was the custom to bring the horses to the door-steps, and all would mount and go off for a visit to some neighbor. I was told, however, that the object of these nocturnal rides was to enable Miss Lomax to write poetry on the moon, and I was sorely perplexed as to the possibility, without the longest kind of a pen, of accomplishing such a feat.

I spent hours reasoning out the problem, and had finally almost brought myself to the point of consulting the young lady herself,—although I distinctly thought there was something mysterious and uncanny about her,—when something occurred which strained relations between her and myself.

An uninteresting bachelor from town had appeared on the scene, to the chagrin of the young people, whose circle was complete without him. He belonged to the class representing in that day the present-day "little brothers of the rich," often Page 26 the most agreeable relations the rich can boast, but in this case decidedly the reverse.

It was thought that the present intruder was "looking for a wife,"—he had been known to descend upon other house-parties without an invitation, —and it was deliberately determined to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders.

Our amiable hostess, however, emphatically put a stop to this. I learned the state of things and resented it.

I resolved to devote myself to him, and to espouse his cause against his enemies. One day when the young ladies were together in my aunt's room there was great merriment over the situation in regard to "old True," and many jests to his disadvantage related and laughed over.

To my great delight Miss Lomax presently announced: Trueheart is a favorite of mine. I shall certainly accept him if he asks me. I saw daylight for my injured friend, and immediately set forth to find him. He was sitting alone under the trees, on the lawn, and welcomed the little girl tripping over the grass to keep him company.

On his knee I eagerly gave him my delightful news, and saw his face illumined by it. I was perfectly happy—and so, he assured me, was he! That evening my aunt observed an unwonted excitement in my face and manner—and after feeling my pulse and hot cheeks decided I was better off in bed, and sent me to my room, which happened Page 27 to be in a distant part of the house.

To reach it I had to go through a long, narrow, dark hall. I always traversed this hall at night with bated breath.

Tiny doors were let into the wall near the floor, opening into small apertures then known by the obsolescent name of "cuddies. So far from the family, nobody would hear me if I screamed. Suppose something were to jump out at me from those cuddies!

In the middle of this fearsome place I heard quick steps behind. Before I could run or scream, strong fingers gripped my shoulders and shook me, and a fierce whisper hissed in my ear—" You little devil!

He left early next morning and so did we—my aunt perceiving that the excitement of the gay house- party was not good for me. I learned there were other things besides hot roast apples to be avoided. Fingers might be burned by meddling with people's love affairs. We were not the only guests who left the hospitable, gay, noisy, sleep-forbidding house.

Our host had an eccentric sister whom we all addressed as "Cousin Betsey Michie," and who had left her own home expressly to spend a few weeks here with my aunt, to whom she was much attached. When "Cousin Betsey" discovered our intended departure, she ordered her maid "Liddy" to pack her trunk,—a little nail-studded box covered with goatskin, Page 28 —and insisted upon claiming us as her guests for the rest of the season.

I wondered what I should do, were she ever to kiss me,—which she never did,—and had made up my mind to keep away from her as far as possible. I owed her nothing, I reasoned, as she was not really my cousin.

She used strong language, and was intolerant of all the singing, dancing, and midnight rides of the young people. Her room was immediately beneath mine. But the night before, lying awake after my startling interview with the poetess, I had heard the galloping horses of the party returning from a midnight visit to "Edgeworth," and the harsh voice of Cousin Betsey calling to her sister: Don't you dare get out of bed to give those scamps supper—a passel of ramfisticated villians, cavorting all over the country like wild Indians.

As we heard much about Johnsonian English from Cousin Betsey, it was reasonable to suppose, my aunt thought, that the startling word was classic. One evening while we were her guests she suddenly asked if I could write.

I was about to give her an indignant affirmative, when my aunt interrupted, "Not very well. Maria Gordon has been copying for me, but such fantastic flourishes! It will be Greek copied into Sanskrit if she does it. Well, what can the child do?

Are your hands clean? Wash them again, honey; you must help Liddy make the Fuller's pies for my dinner-party to-morrow. But I found the "Fuller's pies" were quite within my powers. Il est au nid de la pie, " says Rabelais. As to my hands—I feel persuaded that Cousin Betsey's guests would have been reassured could they have known to a certainty the old lady had not prepared them with her own! A glass bowl was placed before me forthwith,—a bowl of boiling water, some almonds and raisins.

These were the "pies" birds in a nest , and very attractive they were, piled in the quaint old bowl with its fine diamond cutting. As to the "Fuller" thus immortalized, I looked him up, furtively, in the great Johnson's Dictionary which lay in solitary grandeur upon a table in the old lady's bedroom.

Finding him unsatisfactory, I concluded Dr. Johnson was not, after all, the great man Cousin Betsey would have me believe. She quoted him on all occasions as authority upon all Page 30 subjects. Boswell's Life of him, "Rasselas," "The Journey to the Hebrides," and "The Rambler" held places of honor upon the shelves of her small bookcase. They will teach you to speak and write English ,—you need no other language, —and everything else you need know except sewing and cooking. She was, at the moment, engaged in writing a novel, "Some Fact and Some Fiction," which was to appear serially in the Southern Literary Messenger.

I listened "with all my ears" to her talk concerning it with my aunt. It was to be a satire upon the affectations of the day —especially upon certain innovations in dress and custom brought by her cousin "Judy," the accomplished wife of our late Minister to France, Mr. Rives, and transplanted upon the soil of Albemarle County; also the introduction of Italian words to music in place of good old English.

The heroine was exquisitely simple, her muslin gown clasped with modest pearl brooch and a rose-geranium leaf. This was deemed a clever satire on the unintelligible Italian words of recent songs, and ran through several verses, describing the Frog's courtship of Mistress Mouse, who seems to have been a fair lady with domestic habits who lived in a mill and was occupied with her spinning.

I was full of anticipation on the great day of the dinner-party. The house was spick and span. I filled a bowl with damask roses from the garden, sparing the microphylla, clusters that hung so prettily over the front porch.

The dinner was to be at two o'clock. A few minutes before two a sable horseman galloped up to the door, dismounted, and, scraping his foot backward as he bared a head covered with gray wool, presented a note which my aunt read aloud: That sounds like that idiot, Tom Moore.

I helped to pick the berries and gather the eggs from the nests in the privet hedge. Also for several days I had a steady diet of "Fuller's pies. Still, Cousin Betsey must have been, in her way, a great woman, for it was of her that Thomas Jefferson exclaimed, "God send she were a man, that I might make her Professor in my University.

The Morus multicaulis , upon the leaves of which the silkworm feeds, can be propagated from slips or cuttings. These cutting commanded a fabulous price. To plant them was to lay a sure foundation for a great fortune.

My uncle visited Richmond at a time when the mania had reached fever-heat. Men hurried through the streets, with bundles of twigs under their arms, as if they were flying from an enemy. All over the city auction sales were held, and fortunes were lost or gained—as they are to-day in Wall Street—with the fluctuations of the market.

Long galleries, roofed with glass, were hastily erected all over the country, the last year's eggs of the Bombyx mori obtained at great price, and the freshly gathered leaves of the Morus multicaulis laid in readiness for their hatching. My uncle ridiculed this madness, although as a physician it interested him. It is a fine tonic. They will need no bark and camomile while the fever lasts. With my narrow skirts drawn closely around me, I tiptoed gingerly along the aisles dividing the long tables, and saw the hideous, grayish yellow, three-inch worms—each one armed with a rhinoceros-like horn on his head—devouring leaves for dear life.

They had need for haste. Their time was short. Think of the millions of brave men and fair ladies who were waiting for the strong, shining threads it was their humble destiny to spin! I saw the ease with which their spider-web thread was caught in hot water, and wound in balls as easily as I wound the wools for my aunt's knitting. Nothing came of it all! In time all the Morus multicaulis was dug up, and good, sensible corn planted in its stead.

Does not Morus come from the Greek word for "fool"? Henry Clay was his idol. When the great man passed through Virginia, all Hanover went to Richmond to do him the honor, ourselves among the number. He was a son of Hanover, the "Mill boy of the Slashes. No living man except Webster equalled him in all that the world holds essential to greatness—none was as dear to the mass of people. And yet neither could be elected to the post of Chief Magistrate of those adoring people!

Clay, at the time he visited Richmond, was confident he would win this honor. My uncle resolved I should see "the next President. My uncle found a vacant doorstep on the line of march, and there we awaited the great man's coming. You may never again see the greatest man in the world.

The crowd thronged us, and my uncle caught me to a vantage-ground on his shoulder. A tumbling sea of hats was all I could see! Presently a space appeared in the procession, and a tall man on the arm of another looked up with a rare smile to the small maiden, lifted his hat, and bowed to her! My uncle never allowed me to forget that one supreme moment in my child-life.

To this day I cannot look at the fine bronze statuette of Henry Clay in my husband's library without a sensation born of the pride of that hour. I am afraid the small maiden dearly loved glory! Page 36 Nobody would ever have guessed the ambitious little heart beating, the next winter, under the cherry merino; nor the conscious lips deep in her poke-bonnet that followed the prayers at church and implored mercy for a miserable sinner!

For she had, during that glorious summer, another shining hour to remember. Those penitent lips had been kissed by a great man all the way from England—a man who had kissed the hand of a queen!

She had a dim apprehension of virtue through the laying on of hands in church. What, then, might not come in the way of royal attribute from the laying on of lips!

Great thoughts like these so swelled my bosom that I was fain to reveal them to my little Quaker cousin at Shrubbery Hill. She received them gravely. The Princess Isabella, born, like myself, in , was even then known as the future queen of Spain. It was an age of young queens.

Among the strangers from abroad who found their way to Virginia, none was more honored in Hanover than the Quaker author and philanthropist, Joseph John Gurney.

He was the brother of Elizabeth Fry, who gave her life to the amelioration of the prison horrors of England. My uncle entertained Dr.

The house was filled with guests to its utmost capacity. A picture of the long dining-tables rises before me— the gold-and-white best service, the flowers—and Page 37 the sweetest flower of all, my young aunt. She was tall and graceful and very beautiful,—with large gray eyes, dark curls framing her face, delicate features, a lovely smile! She wore a narrow gown of pearl silk, the "surplice" waist belted high, and sleeves distended at the top by means of feather cushions tied in the armholes.

I remember my uncle ordered the dinner to be served quietly and in a leisurely manner. Gurney drew forth his scrapbook and pencils, and began, as he talked, to retouch sketches he had made during his journey. The parlor was simply furnished. The Virginian of that day seemed to attach small importance to the style of his furniture.

His chief pride was in his table, his fine wines, his horses and equipage, and the perfect comfort he could give his guests. There was no bric-a-brac, there were no pictures or brackets on the wall. I have seen the plate in which they were served. She was not responsible for the taste of this inherited home, which she had not tenanted Page 38 very long.

The walls of the parlor were papered with a wonderful representation of a Venetian scene —printed at intervals of perhaps four or more feet. Down this stair came the most adorable creature in the world,—roses on her brocade gown, roses on her broad hat,—and at the foot of the stair a cavalier, also adorable, extended his hand to conduct her to the gondola in waiting.

In the distance were more castles, more sea, more gondolas. In this room the distinguished stranger met the company convened in his honor.

If he gasped or shuddered at the ornate walls, he gave no sign. The little girl on the ottoman in the chimney corner, permitted to sit up late because of the rare occasion, listened with wide eyes to conversation she could not understand. Weighty matters were discussed,—for all the world was alive to the question which had to be met later,—the possibility of freeing the slaves under the present constitutional laws. This was a small gathering of the wise men of our neighborhood—come to consult a wise man from the country that had met and solved a similar problem.

Perhaps all of these men had, like my uncle, given freedom to inherited slaves. Presently I found myself, as I half dreamed in the corner, caught up by strong arms to the bosom of the great man himself. Bending over the sleepy head, he whispered a strange story—how that, far away across the seas, there was once a little girl Page 39 "just like you" who loved her play, and loved to sit up and hear grown people talk—how a lady came to her one day and said, "My child you must study and learn to deny yourself much pleasure, for soon you will be the queen of England" —how the little girl neither laughed nor cried, but said, "I will be good"—how time had gone on, and she had kept her promise and was now grown up to be a lovely lady; and sure enough, just a little while ago had been crowned queen—and how everybody was glad, because they knew, as she had been a good child, she would be a good queen.

That was a long time ago. Many things have happened and been forgotten since then; the Venetian lady and her cavalier have sailed away in unknown seas; the good Englishman has long since gone to his rest; the queen has won, God grant, an immortal crown, having lived to be old, never forgetting all along her life her promise; and the little girl has lived to be old, too!

She has dreamed many dreams, but none more beautiful than the one she probably dreamed that night,—all roses and castles and gondolas, and a gracious young queen lovelier than all the rest. Thus passed the first eight years of my life. Compared with those that followed, they were years of absolute serenity and happiness.

They were not gay. This was the time when people who "feared God and desired to save their souls" felt bound to forsake the Established Church, many of whose clergy had become objects of disgust rather than of reverence.

Dissenters and Quakers lived all around Page 40 us; my uncle and aunt were Presbyterians, and I heard little but sober talk in my early years. Sometimes we attended the silent meetings of the Quakers, and sometimes old St. Martin's, to which many of our Episcopal friends belonged.

Extreme asceticism, however, was as far from the temper of my aunt and uncle as was the extreme of dissipation. They were strict in the observance of the Sabbath and of all religious duties. Temperance in speech and living, moderation, serenity,—these ruled the life at Cedar Grove.

In there was a charming princess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz; intelligent, amiable, and only seventeen years of age. She had stepped forth from the conventional ranks of the young noblewomen of her day, and written a spirited letter to Frederick the Great, in which she entreated him to stop the ravages of war then desolating the German States. She had painted in vivid colors the miseries resulting from the brutality of the Prussian soldiery.

It appears that this letter reached the eyes of the Prince of Wales. He fell in love with the letter before he ever knew the writer. Queen of Hearts Payout Tables and Rules. Adams disfuckingusting -- submitted by: Fine if you have MS Office, but not otherwise. If you click for the HTML version, the screen you see will be mostly blank. Hold the shift key down and highlight the entire article to get it to display.

No point in copying and pasting -- nothing pastes. Where it will display properly, word n. The trouble is that the old school is … like, schoolacho.

Go shower or something, cause you are smellacho. Sometimes used just for variety, sometimes used to create interjections from verbs. A suffix that can be added, against all rules of grammar and logic, to the end of nouns and verbs to make new nouns and verbs. After pulling off a difficult nosegrind on your skateboard Oooh, grindage. There's a serious lack of foodage in Tony's house.

In the marathon, she expected to be getting her runnage on for at least two hours. For some reason, this particular derivational suffix disappeared from English despite the large number of -age words; it is, nonetheless, very useful for the creation of adjectives of slightly different meaning from the currently accepted ones.

It helps, moreover, with postpositive constructions, such as "he is an idiot villagic" instead of "he is a village idiot. Listen, in that decolletagic piece of frippery, nobody's going to notice your lipstick. Formerly an actor turned adult writer of juvenalia, he has declared, if I remember right, that his trusty sixth-grade Words for Big Kids! Such a rule, applied to modern English, would be highly productive, since we have so many nouns that end in -ance.

Note, however, that the rule applies only to noun: See "-a-licious," "-tastic," and "xtra-. This is a gross-ass sandwich. That was a stupid-ass movie. Thou art but a cuboid hexahedrone: Thou hast no power to resist my will! Thou shalt pop neither thy zippers nor thy seems! Stint not thy capaciousness, hexadrone, lest I summon the wonderly massive sumo wrestler down the hall to sit upon thee and crush thy pride and thy reckless defiance, that I may close thee with thy clasps and zippers, and bind thee with bonds of cord and chain, and, willy nilly, return home, make thee to disgorge all thy contents, and give thee into the hands of eBay!

This weekend we should like go 'n like do stuff and like, yeah. Socket for or container or holder of something; by extension, on its own "ingo" , 2. The proper place for something e. The position to which someone aspires or the goal they want to reach.

You don't have any flashlights? Well, this candle's bur--yeow! Gimme a … whatever it's called … you know: I dropped it, it's snuffed. You know, I think I'll just sit here and let my third-degree burns heal in the dark, thanks. I just made some waffles in my waffleironiser. Ha, I just made a smoothie in my blenderiser. Multi-purpose suffix for everything. Can also be used alone -- usually with a waggle of the dominant hand.

A suffix used mostly with adjectives that means the same thing as "kind of" or "kind of like" when added to a word. In response to a question like "How's it goin'? What did you think of the concert's story-ish format? A no-brainer way of turning nouns into verbs. Frowned upon by many pedants. The burglar burgled the house. The burglar burglarized the house. Always follows a consonant. You'd better get yo'self to the stiznatch. You split a word in two, the first half in front of -izz- and the second half behind.

Snoop Dogg himself declared izzle-speak to be out. Indicates something is small or cute. Used on proper names often nauseating in this usage as well as other nouns. Usually intimating that there's been an intentional "change" or effect on something, likely caused by you. Can use "sweet," "cool," and many similar words with "-ness. May be used as a crutch for those with limited vocabularies, unlike the pseudodoctrinati -- whose vocabularies are virtually limitless.

Added to a word to produce the name of a place where the root word is found. Then I'm going to the foodorium to get some pretzels for a snack. One who embraces the dark side of something, especially a twisted version of something good; 2. Someone who, for some reason, attacks that which they hate or fear by characterizing it as horrible, disgusting etc. He's actually fixated on dead cats, decomposing cats, zombie A relationship romantic or platonic between two people; v.

To create, observe, or hypothesize a relationship romantic or platonic between two people; 3. To recognize and support a particular relationship romantic or platonic between two people. Fan-fiction -ships from other popular works are legion: Any way, there it is: Use it in good health. It seems that fan-fiction -ships often fall foul of ultra-conservative canonists, who are, shall we say, unfond of such extracanonical dallyings.

The response by the fan-fictors is "Don't use your canon to blow holes in my -Ship! Meteorologically, islands in and lands bordering the Caribbean and the Gulf of Mexico sit in "hurricanistan.

See "-a-licious," "-arific," and "Xtra-. When given a root, combines to make an adjective referring to a state of being. Add to the end of a single syllable word to emphasize it, and describe an extreme state of it. That's gotta be the ultimate shrimp lover's dish. Those roses are smellular. I got tickets to Rob Zombie. Speaker uses phrase to recover from the embarrassment of being ignored in public, signaling that speaker can begin or resume work or conversation with others.

Can also indicate a "taking back" of suggestion, question, or offer. She walked past and pretended not to hear me, or perhaps truly didn't hear. To remedy that situation I propose to continue with something like frice, fice, sice, swice, eitce, neice, and tice. I'm not sure that they would catch on very quickly or easily.

Stress accent, check mark, grave accent dot below, dot circle below, and dot circle below, for "elect. Try try again and see if he don't succeed. The opposition may have a tough time coming up with a suitable electable candidate.

Simple forms of the name "Obama" in a certain numerical phonetic alphabet: This system is simple but probably not easily applied. This word has been extrapolated from "l33t-sp34k," as in software that is 0-day, or yet to be released. Chris looked up to see what Justin was looking at.

The "" is the length of time before you issue a garnishment. If you use this, please list the contributor as "Anonymous Tax Collector," as I still work for the CCRA, though no longer as a tax collector, and this could very well get me in hot water.

If you cannot publish it without my name, please reject it. It might as well be called Google Yellow Pages, just that it's google instead of a website. I need a I'm at the corner store right now, Duke. I need an ice cold Snowee on the double. Information or anything else that arrives long after the event itself, especially when it arrives too late.

From the year AD , when SN --that is, super nova appeared in the sky, was recorded by Chinese, Japanese, and Arabic astronomers, was visible in broad daylight for three weeks and by night for two solid years before fading.

Its remains form the Crab Nebula. Ironically, the actual explosion took place around BC and only got here in , because it was so far away. Off the scale, beyond measure. A sign of recognition or motto and a bit of a credo, I suppose among semioticians.

From semiotics luminary Charles Sanders Santiago Peirce's system of relationships among the elements of signs words, pictures, maps, syllogisms, etc. It's the number of letters in each word. Iota digamma is "16" is ancient Greek; digamma looks like an F.

Incredibly bad bad luck; adj. Often "th," pronounced "one-sixty-ninth" Of or pertaining to incredible bad luck; v. To cause, attract, or impose incredibly bad luck. IF you believe that 13 is bad luck. So I went to get some towels to soak up the puddle, but I tripped and fell against the dryer. Then I had to use the towels there to soak up the blood from the cut in my head. Once I got the bleeding under control, I grabbed some clean towels and headed back to the living room, but slipped in the blood and broke my tailbone.

I called my wife's office, and while I was on hold, I fainted from blood loss. The carpet was ruined. That was some Example taken from the linked website. A usually facetious cry for medical assistance; 2. Sarcastic and generally unsympathetic agreement that someone has been injured; 3. Code for an injury requiring quick or in-depth medical assistance, used to keep the injured party calm.

This was actually coined by my little brother back in They killed off what's-her-name! Just hold as still as you canHey! Sim, we've got a B over hereSo, who's your pick for the championship game?

Such as a security guard, or other illustrious low-wage position in law enforcement. A car that looks good 20 feet away, and only traveling 20 mph.

Typical car for a teenager. Stock motor, cheap paint job, etc. It's Thanksgiving day, and a Sunday besides. Last weekend I got as much sleep as a weekend. Created for my year-old grandson Alec to make sure the words are in his vocabulary and to make sure he knows how to spell them.

Tim 51 Tom act add age ago aid air all and any 61 are arm art ask ate bad bag bar bat bed 71 bee bet big bit bow box boy bus but buy 81 can cap car cat cow cry cup cut day did 91 die dig dog dot dry due dug ear eat egg end eye far fat fed few fig fit fix fly fog for fox fun fur gas get got gun had has hat hay her him his hit hot how ice ill its jar jet job joy key kid law lay led leg let lie log lot low mad man map may men met mix mud new nor not now off oil old one our out own pan pay pen per pet pie pig pot put ran raw red rod Alec row run sad san sat saw say sea see set sex she sir sit six sky son sum sun tax tea ten the thy tie tin tip too top try two use war was way wet who why win won yes yet you Andy Asia Bill Dick Eddy Fred I'll I've Jack Jane Jeff John July June King Laos Mama Mars Mary Mike Miss Mrs.

York able also ants area arms army arts atom aunt away baby back ball band bank bare bark barn base bean bear beat been bell belt bend bent best bite blew blow blue boat body bone book born both bowl boys burn bush busy cage cake call came camp card care cars case cave cell cent city clay club coal coat cold come cook cool copy corn cost cows crew crop dark date dawn days dead deal dear deep deer desk died dirt dish does dogs done door down draw drew drop duck dull dust duty each earn ears east easy edge eggs else ends etc.

One could, I suppose call it "2m," but that would be "toom" which makes then death candiesbad juju. It occurs to me as I sit here typing that we could also spell it out in scientific notation: Overkill, but it would make a cool t-shirt. I really enjoyed the rice-crispy 2ks, but I heard they stopped making thembummer. My sister used to call 2ks "enemies" when she was little. Someone should make bags of black and red 2ks so we can figuratively devour our enemies.

Black and blue 2ks would be good as a gift for somebody who's down after being put through the wringer. All-Black 2ks for the NZ rugby team's fans How about all red, yellow, and blue 2ks for little kids learning the primary colors? Tebbs, who then and there bade us a long farewell.

We never saw him more! A delicious little story was told with keen relish by Juliet, the fifteen-year-old daughter. She had, as she thought, "grown up," while her mother lived in seclusion, and had a boy-lover of her own. Sitting, after hours, one moonlight night on the veranda under her mother's window, the anxious youth was moved to seize the propitious moment and declare himself.

Juliet wished to answer correctly, and dismiss him without wounding him. She assured him "Mamma would never consent. Be sure to bolt the door when you come in! Gilmer had small respect for boy-lovers; and wished to go to sleep. The Gilmer home was full of treasures of books and pictures. We turned over the great pages of Hogarth and the illustrations of Shakespeare, very much to the damage of these valuable books.

Choice old Madeira was kept in the cellar, to which we had free access, mixing it with whipped cream or mingling it with ice, sugar and nutmeg whenever we so listed.

A great gilded frame rested against the wall, from which some large painting had been removed. Over this we stretched a netting and inaugurated tableaux vivantes , of which we never wearied. I was always Rowena, to whom Lizzie, as Rebecca the Jewess, gave her jewels. One of the Gilmer boys made an admirable Dr. Primrose, another Moses, whom we dressed for the fair, and the other children were flower girls, nuns, or pilgrims with staff and shell.

When one questions the possibility of this large family living for several years without a head and moving about decorously and systematically, we must not forget the family butler, Mandelbert, and his wife, Mammy Grace. Both were long past middle age. They simply assumed the care of their broken-hearted mistress and her children, ruling the house with patient wisdom and kindness.

Mammy Grace, so well known fifty years ago in Virginia, was peculiar in her speech, retaining the imagery of her race and nothing of its dialect. She was straight and tall and always carefully dressed. She wore a dark, close-fitting gown, which she called a "habit," a handkerchief of plaid madras crossed upon her bosom, an ample Page 61 checked apron, and a cap with a full mob crown like Martha Washington's.

When she dropped her respectful "curtsey," her salutation, "Your servant, master," was less suggestive of deference than of dignified self-respect. Her one fault was that, like her mistress, she never knew when the children were grown. This was sometimes embarrassing. As surely as 8 o'clock Saturday night came, one after the other would be called from the parlor, and would obey instantly, for fear she would add more than a hint of the thorough, personally superintended bath which awaited each one.

Mandelbert was superb, tall, gray, and very stately. Mammy Grace lived to an honored old age, but a liberal use of fine old Madeira proved the reverse of the modern lacteal remedy for old age. In a few years there was no more wine in the cellar—and no more Mandelbert.

The grandmother of the Gilmer children was Mrs. Ann Baker, a lovely old lady who wore a Letitia Ramolino turban, with little curls sewn within its brim. She had been a passenger on James Rumsey's boat in at Shepherdstown, when he was the first to succeed by steam alone in propelling a vessel against the current of the Potomac, and "at the rate of four or five miles an hour!

I cannot be quite sure,—all witnesses are gone,—but I have a distinct impression I was told that General Washington was a passenger with Mrs. Baker on James Rumsey's boat. In May of that year I wrote a letter to my aunt, Mrs. I think that I have fully tested the truth of the old saying, viz. I am overjoyed at the idea of seeing my dear little Henry, and Tom in a few weeks. Willie says that Henry is beautiful , and that Tom has become quite a famous beau, improved wonderfully in gallantry, etc.

I anticipate a great many long, pleasant walks with him, Page 63 though I am afraid he will not like Charlottesville, as he will find no rabbits' tracks or partridges here. I hope you will come the first of June and stay a long while with us. I think your visit will improve her wonderfully.

We are all as busy as we can be: I am very disconsolate at the thought of losing my most intimate friend Lizzie Gilmer for a few months. She is going to Staunton, and I expect to miss her very much. We have a very quiet time now—as most of my acquaintances were sent off at the late disturbances at the University, and I can study, undisturbed by company. I scarcely visit any one except Lizzy, and receive more visits from her than any one else, as she comes every day, and frequently two or three times a day.

I am going to spend my last evening with her this evening, as she leaves to-morrow. I am very sorry that Willie will not see her, as I know they would like each other. No less a personage than Dr. He has called on me twice , but I, unfortunately, was not at home once when he called. He is a German one of the nobility , and speaks our language shockingly, and is such an incessant chatterer that he gives me no possible chance of wedging in a syllable.

He walked with me from church last Sunday, and jabbered incessantly, much to the amusement of the congregation in general, but particularly of two little boys who walked behind us. When he parted with us, he asked uncle's permission to visit us, which was granted; and he seemed very grateful, and said he 'would have de pleasure den of sharing de doctor's hospitality and hearing some of Miss Page 64 Rice's fine music.

He is not so much older than I am, either, as he is only twenty-one, so I think he might be more respectful in his demeanor. What do you think of it all? He plays very well on the piano, and has heard the best performers in Europe, so I feel very reluctant to play for him. The first time he heard me play, he wanted to applaud me as they do at concerts, but he was checked by one of the company, who intimated to him that it was not customary in this country, so he contented himself with clapping his hands several times.

Aunt Mary joins me in love and a kiss to all grandfather's household and to Tom, Henry, and Uncle Izard. I send my best respects to Lethe, Viny, and Aunt Chany, and my love to all the ducks, geese, chickens, turkeys, and Tom's dogs. Fanciful seals and motto wafers were in high favor among romantic young people. They were only the midnight pranks of mischievous boys, such as hyphenating the livery-stable's name "Le Tellier" to read "Letel-Liar," drawing his "hacks" to the doors of the citizens, placing the undertaker's sign over the physician's office, driving Mr.

It remained later for the student in whom I was most interested to excel them all. He drove a flock of sheep one dark night up the rotunda stairs to the platform on the roof, and then shut down the trap-door.

A plaintive good-morning-bleating welcomed faculty and students next day. Needless to say, the valiant shepherd was "suspended. No good hotel could be found anywhere in Virginia. The landlord was ruined by the hospitality of the citizens. As soon pleasant stranger "put up" at a public house, he was claimed as a guest by the first man who could reach him.

When large religious or political or literary meetings convened in our town, my uncle would send to the chairman asking for the number of guests Page 66 we could entertain.

Until they arrived, we were as much on the qui vive as if we had bought numbers in a lottery. On this occasion, Lizzie and I were in great grief. She had been away from town for two months, and was now to make me a long visit. We had made plans for a lovely week. Now the house would be filled with clergymen,—no music, no visitors and Lizzie was engaged , no "fun"! My aunt sympathized with us, and fitted up a small room at the far end of the hall, moved in the piano and guitar, and bade us make ourselves at home.

We were seated at church behind a row of the grave and reverend seniors, when Dr. White leaned over our pew and said to one of them, "I'm glad to tell you I can send you to Dr.

He will take fine care of you. There's plenty of room," replied the doctor. Lizzie gave me a despairing glance. Now we are ruined, we thought. A dreadful small boy to be amused and kept out of mischief. That afternoon we were condoling with each other in our little city of refuge, when the opening front door revealed among our guests a slender youth, who, upon being directed to his room, sprang up the stairs two or three steps at a time. There's no hope for us!

A strange young man to be entertained in our little parlor! She must bring down all her prettiest books and pictures and arrange a table in a corner for his amusement. He will not be here much of the time.

He has to go to church with his father, you know. He made himself charming. I had not yet tucked up my long braids, but he treated me beautifully. He was so alert, so witty, so amiable, that he was unanimously voted the freedom of our sanctum. He entered with glee into our schemes for self-defence.

Running out to a shrub on the lawn, he returned with a handful of "wax berries," gravely explained, "ammunition," and proceeded to test the range of the missile. Just then one of the enemy, the great Dr. Plumer, entered the hall, and the soft berry neatly reached his dignified nose.

His Reverence gave no sign of intelligence. He had been a boy himself! George Tucker took an immense fancy to our new ally. He found a great deal to say to me. How glad was I that my aunt had given me a new rose-colored silk bonnet from Mme.

The week passed like a dream. When the stage drew up at midnight to take our guest to the railroad, seven miles distant, we were both very triste at parting.

He was sixteen years old, was to graduate next summer at Hampden Sidney College, and come the session afterward to our University. I hoped all Page 68 would go well with him; and after the winding horn of the stage was quite out of hearing, I,—well, I had been taught early to entreat the Father of all to take care of my friends.

There could be no great harm in including him by name, nor yet in adding to my petition the words " for me! I liked to please him, and I surprised him by producing a love story. I think I called it "The Birthnight Ball. My uncle sent it to the Saturday Evening Post in Philadelphia and it was accepted, the editor proposing, as I was a young writer, to waive the honorarium!

I was only too glad to accept the honor. In the autumn my uncle took us on a long journey to Niagara Falls and the Northern Lakes. In New York we stopped at the Astor House on Broadway, and my room looked into the park then opposite, where scarlet flamingoes gathered around a fountain. We walked in the beautiful Bowling Green Park, then the fashionable promenade, took tea with the Miss Bleeckers on Bleecker Street, and bought a lovely set of turquoises, a jewelled comb, and a white topaz brooch from Tiffany's.

Moreover, my seat at table was near that of John Quincy Adams, now an aged man, paralytic, and almost incapable of conveying his food to his lips. He was charmingly cheerful, Page 69 and courteous to a sweet-faced lady who attended him. I think we took the canal-boat in Schenectady which was to convey us across the state of New York. My uncle had been beguiled in New York by a flaming pictorial advertisement of palatial packet-boats, drawn by spirited horses galloping at full speed.

When we entered our little craft, we found it so crowded that we were wretchedly uncomfortable. Possibly, in our ignorance, we had not taken the fine packet of the advertisement. Our own boat crawled along at a snail's pace, making three or four miles an hour. Many of the passengers left it every morning, preferring to walk ahead and wait for us until night. We made the journey in five or six days.

The heat, the discomfort, the mosquitoes! Who can imagine the misery of that journey? Fresh from the mountains and gorgeous sunsets of Albemarle, we found little to admire in the scenery.

As to the Falls, which we had come so far to see —they and their entourage made me ill. It was all so weird and strange; the dark forests of evergreen, pine, and spruce; the sullen Indians, squatted around blankets, embroidering with beads and porcupine quills; the hapless little Indian babies strapped to boards and swinging in the trees, and over all, the heavy roar of the waters.

The immensity of their power filled me with terror. I longed to get away from the awful spectacle. The best part of a journey is the home-coming. The dear familiar house,—we never knew how good Page 70 it was,—the welcome of affectionate, cheerful servants; the dogs beside themselves with joy, the perfect peace, leisure, relaxation!

Flowers, fruit, and much accumulated mail awaited us. My keen eye detected a large-enveloped paper from Philadelphia, and my nimble fingers quickly abstracted it, unperceived, from the miscellaneous heap, and consigned it to a bureau drawer in my room, the key of which went into my pocket.

In the privacy of my bedtime hour—having bolted the door—I drew it forth. Oh, what inane foolishness! Tearing it into strips, I lighted each one at my candle and saw the whole burned—burned to impalpable smoke and degraded dust and ashes; consigned then and there to utter oblivion!

My uncle often wondered why the story had not appeared. There was a perilous moment when he threatened to write to the publishers, but I persuaded him to be patient and dignified about it, and the matter, after a while, was forgotten.

Never was an uncle so managed by a young girl! I think my great card with him was my interest in his office work. Physicians compounded and prepared their own prescriptions sixty-five years ago. He delighted in me when I donned my ample apron and, armed with scales and spatula, gravely assumed the airs of a physician's assistant. I knew all his professional manoevres to satisfy hypochondriac old gentlemen and nervous old ladies. I learned to make the innocuous pills which "helped" them "so much," and the carminative for the aching little stomachs Page 71 of the babies.

Great have been the strides since then in the noblest of all professions! Just here I venture to illustrate some of the radical changes in the practice of medicine by extracts from a letter written by Dr. Theodorick Bland to his sister, Fanny Bland Randolph. The letter is copied from the original in the possession of the late Joseph Bryan of Richmond, Virginia.

The treatment in differed in no material particular from that of , when Dr. Bland prescribed—regretting the necessity of "absent treatment"—to his sister's husband, John Randolph, as follows: Randolph's case to be a bilious intermittent, something of the inflammatory kind, which, had he been bled pretty plentifully in the beginning, would have intermitted perfectly; but unless his pulse is hard and, as it were, laboring and strong, I would not advise that he should now be bled; but if they are strong and his head-ache violent, and the weight of the stomach great, let him lose about six ounces of blood from the arm, and if he is much relieved from that, and his pulse rises and is full and strong after it, a little more may be taken.

Let his body be kept open by Glysters, made with chicken water, molasses, decoction of marsh-mallows and manna, given once, twice or three times,—nay, even four times a day if occasion requires, and let him have manna and cream of tartar dissolved in Barley Water,—one ounce of manna and a half ounce of Cream of Tartar to every pint. Of this let him drink plentifully, but prior to this, after bleeding should bleeding be necessary let him take a vomit of Ipecac, four grains every half hour until he has four or five plentiful vomits, drinking plentifully of Camomile Tea to three or Page 72 four pints at intervals to work it off.

Should the pain in the head be violent and the eyes red and heavy, let his temples be cupped or leeches applied to his temples, which operation may be repeated every day, if he find relief from it, for two or three days. If the manna, Cream of Tartar and Glysters be not effectual, let him take fifteen grains of rhubarb and as many of Vitriolated Tartar, repeating the dose, twice or three times at six or eight hours intervals. Should he have any catching of the nerves, let one of the powders be given every four hours in a spoonful of jalop or pennyroyal water.

Should he be delirious, sleepy, or dozing in a half kind of a sleep, his pulse small and quick, put blisters to his back, arms and legs, and leeches and cupping to his temples. If his skin should be hot, dry and parched after he has taken his vomit or before, let him be put in a tub of warm water with vinegar in it, up to his arm-pits and continue in it as long as he can bear it, first wetting his head therein.

He may, now and then, drink a little claret-whey and have his tongue sponged with sage-tea, honey and vinegar. Dear Fanny, with sincere wishes for his safe and speedy recovery, and love to him and your dear little ones, "Your affectionate brother, "T. His father survived Dr. Bland's treatment only a few years. Still, fidelity to historic truth impels me to state that we have no evidence that the doctor was in league with Henry St. George Tucker, who almost immediately married the widow!

Now everybody, high and low, rich and poor, seeks a home in the cities. It is not without reason that all classes should flock to the metropolis. There wealth can be enjoyed, poverty aided, talent appreciated; but there individual influence is almost lost. The temptation to self-assertion, repugnant as it is to refined feeling, is almost irresistible.

Men and women must assert themselves or sink into oblivion. Nobody has time to climb the rickety stairs to find the genius in the attic. Nobody looks for the statesman among the serene adherents to the "Simple Life.

Nobody would have interrupted him. The absence of all the hurry and fever of life made the little town of Charlottesville an ideal home before the cataclysm of The professors at the University could live, in the moderate age, upon their modest salaries, and have something to spare for entertaining. The village contingent was refined, amiable, and intelligent. Staunton sent us, every winter, her young ladies, the daughters of Judge Lucas Thompson, all of whom were finally absorbed Page 74 by the descendants of Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, Maryland.

From the neighborhood on the Buckmountain Road came the family of William C. Rives, twice our envoy to the Court of Versailles, and many times sent to the Senate of the United States. The "gallant Gordons, many a one," the Randolphs and Pages, and Mr.

Stevenson, late Minister to England, —all these lived near enough to be neighbors and visitors. Across Moore's Creek, at the foot of Monticello, was the house of Mr.

There lived my sweet friend and bridesmaid, Eliza Rives, and there I could call for a glass of lemonade when on my way to Monticello, guiding, as I often did, some stranger-guest to visit the home of Thomas Jefferson.

We would pass through the straggling bushes of Scottish broom which bordered the road— planted originally by Mr. Jefferson himself—pause at the modest monument over his ashes, and reverently ponder the inscription thereon. I loved the spot, the glorious mountains, the glimpse at our feet of the Greek temple Page 75 in its sacred grove, the atmosphere of mystery and romance.

Abner

Example, 'If Chris would reach out and sincerely apologize for bitch-slapping me, I might -- well, not forgive him, but at least allow him a small place in our lives again. Berliner's an old, old geezer -- several years older than I am, and I'm older than dirt. I think I'd be disappointed with myself if I let him die without accepting another one of his pd entries. Then, on Sunday, for the first time in months and months, I opened the [pd e-mail account] and found four e-mails from him.

What he did was wrong -- and it's clear on re-reading that he knew it was wrong when he did it. Here's the pertinent excerpt from the offending e-mail, highlighted: I hope you have the good sense not to beat yourself up on this. You have to focus on the good times to honor her memory. Sick humor but ya gotta admit it's PD-worthy, even if totally PI and not suitable for posting; there are some things to which one simply must rise sink?

So be it assuming you'll ever talk to me again. So, he knew it was wrong, but lacked the discipline not to say it. If he's losing it -- and he well could be -- it's his problem, not mine. In addition, if he had done what I said he should do, his e-mails wouldn't have remained unread for six months.

If he sincerely apologizes for what he did, there's a chance -- maybe not much of a chance -- that I won't delete all future submittals from the input queue. That's what I've been doing for almost two years now, but I don't recall the last time he submitted something. Possibly as recently as when he sent the e-mails, about six months ago.

It's almost as if sbiii aimed his signature at me: In addition, I always do that, with only the rarest of exceptions. That way no one can accuse me of picking and choosing what to respond to -- effectively setting up my own strawmen to argue against.

If sbiii had followed my practice -- including saving all e-mail exchanges in their entirety -- he should have no trouble finding out what he did that was wrong. Nor would he have any trouble understanding why I was and remain upset. No slander on my part. No slur on my part. An entirely understandable response on my part. It was considerably more than a gaffe. The four men and one woman Associate Justices of the United States Supreme Court whose decisions in the early s will have such an impact on the current and future generations of Americans.

The oh is present primarily to make it pronounceable and really has little to do with the sex of Ruth Joan Bader Ginsburg. Now it's the our conservative brethren will have to contend with. The 's big-brains and stare decisis will be all they need to consider to write opinions, concurrences, and dissents that support their foregone conclusions.

One who is empty-headed or stupid. From the internet error code for "page not found" encountered when you click on a "dead" link. Catching people up to date. Would you please give me the on this? It is not a police call for "marijuana smoking in progress.

Each species has its own grid, which supports life, and connects the consciousness of its particular species. Before any species can come into existence or make an evolutionary step, a new grid must be completed. When a species becomes extinct, that particular species' grid dissolves. A new grid was completed in , the 'Christ-consciousness' grid. This grid will allow humans to evolve into our next version.

The main change will be a shift to the 'unity consciousness. You, the higher being that occupies your body, make the millions of different consciousnesses in your body work together as one being.

How does this relate to this grid? Think of yourself as a cell and the grid as the higher being. We will still have individual consciousness, but will be united in the form of a higher being in order to work as one entity. Scientifically speaking, humans don't appear to be evolving new chromosomes or much of anything else; thanks to technology. I'll give the directions to you, but loud enough for him to hear … would that work?

Yeah, that might work. Let's give it a shot, anyway. Used to confirm that everything is fine and that you are on standby. Definition added by Chris Conley and Stephen. Everything's great, couldn't be better. As used on Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Faith. Cautionary note to would-be critics: The pseudodictionary is primarily a "dictionary" for made-up words. Submitters are "well within their rights" to use an existing word and give it a new meaning.

Rarely, possibly occasionally, the editor will add a critic's comments. However, this will typically be done only if the critic brings something new or informative. Criticism from submitters, as such, has no place here. In our omnipotent positions, we editors reserve for ourselves the right to criticize. See entry at TIC or t-i-c. I'm in position now, five by five. Cessna Romeo Lima Fox to tower. Radio check for Romeo Lima Fox. Romeo Lima Fox to tower.

You're 5 by 5. Are you listening to me? Yeah, 5 by 5. Use to describe a potentially bad situation. Oh, my God, look at what just walked into the stadium. Oh yeah, she looks really fine. A novel solution i. The story goes that the teacher had barely sat down after giving the assignment when little master Gauss approached with the correct answer on his slate: Gauss went on to write his magnum opus, the Disquisitiones Arithmeticae when he was only How did we do that?

Can be a noun or adjective. Then he took it back to Sears all in pieces in a box. From the fake numbers they use on TV and in the movies that start with She must've 'd me. IV, which is "one from five". Romans most certainly did not put subtrahend I's in front of D's or C's, but this is evidently a solecism or barbarity. Liv Tyler's in the lobby! Origin is probably card games. Aquaman is ; the SubMariner is the Marvel guy.

Can't tell you with you know who around. The age literal or figurative that you discover whether you're going to spend your remaining years alone or with family and friends 2. A watershed birthday whether really age 64 or some other birthday where things change.

The "someday" we're all waiting for. The heartbreakingly innocent name for "cystic fibrosis," coined by very young sufferers of the disease, the prognosis of which includes a lifespan of only about 37 years. We should spend more on 65 roses research. The overwhelming force or trial a protagonist faces at the plot climax usually approximately three-quarters of the way through a story post-break-in-stasis, q.

Wow, that was quite a battle scene. The letters on a telephone keypad that spell SAD. Now used by amateur radio operators as a friendly "best regards" at the end of a radio conversation. The occasionally heard "73s" is redundant and an example of poor rearing. Talk to you tomorrow, Bob. Army slang for something thoroughly useless, worthless, problematic, or dysfunctional.

Used by everybody from Sugar Hill Gang on. To cut someone off at the bar. As the night grew late, a bartender would surreptitiously switch the whiskey he was pouring from the more expensive stuff over proof to the cheaper stuff 86 proof since the drunks were too far gone to notice the difference. Shortly after that, you were likely to get to kicked out for sleeping at the bar. Colloquially it has come to mean being cut off from alcohol or being booted from the establishment.

Being thrown out is usually what is meant when someone gets 86ed. The version given is just one of several versions to account for the origin of "86" with the given meaning. If you cite the pseudodictionary as your source of information, you're in danger of getting the dreaded automatic F. To throw someone out; to ban or bar someone. To get rid of something, to throw out. Ditch, dispose of, drop. For some, "to 86" also means "to kill" or "to murder.

A popular piece of diner lingo that, according to Jonelle Roest, co-owner of Rosie's Diner , is still in use in many restaurants. There are three theories about the origin of the phrase. The first is a reference to Article 86 of the New York state liquor code, which defines the circumstances in which a bar patron should be refused alcohol.

There's also the soup-kitchen theory, which refers to the fact that during the Great Depression, soup kitchens would often make just enough soup for 85 people; therefore, if you were number 86 in line, you got eighty-sixed. The third theory is dubbed the coffin theory: A coffin is eight feet long and buried six feet under the ground, so if you're in your coffin, you've been eight by sixed, or eighty-sixed.

Additional speculations about the origin of " eighty-sixed. Thanks to Mark B for , origin unknown. Originally, according to the American Thesaurus of Slang , it was a password used between clerks to indicate: The number code developed by soda clerks was very extensive….

A hissed '98' from one soda-popper to another indicated 'The assistant manager is prowling around. AHD3 gives the etymology: Play Queen of Hearts at Casinos found Here. Queen of Hearts Player Reviews. Mittened and hooded I ran down the garden walk from which the snow had been swept and piled high on either side.

Delicious little rivers were running down and I launched a mighty fleet of leaves and sticks. Suddenly I beheld a miracle. The snow was lying thickly all around, but the sun had melted it from a south bank, and white violets—hundreds of them—had popped out. I spread my apron on the clean snow and filled it with the cool, crisp blossoms. Running in exultant I poured my treasure into my dear aunt's lap as she sat on a low chair which brought my head just on a level with her bosom.

Gaudens, I remember the gingerbread and apples! I can see myself in the early hot summer, sent forth to breathe the cool air of the morning. What a paradise of sweets met my senses! The squares, crescents, and circles edged with box, over which an enchanted glistening veil had been thrown during the night; the tall lilacs, snowballs, myrtles and syringas, guarding like sentinels the entrance to every avenue; the glowing beds of tulips, pinks, purple iris, "bleeding hearts," flowering almond with rosy spikes, lily-of-the-valley!

I scanned them all with curious eyes. Did I not know that the fairies, riding on butterflies, had visited each one and painted it during the night? Did I not know that these Page 12 same fairies had hung their cups on the grass, and danced so long that the cups grew fast to the blades of grass and became lilies-of-the-valley?

I knew all this—although my dear aunt never approved of fairy tales and gave me no fairy-tale books. Cousin Charles believed them; moreover, I had a charming picture of a fairy, riding on a butterfly. Of course they were true. But I always hurried along, with small delay, among the flower beds. I knew where the passion-vine had dropped golden globes of fruit during the night—and I knew well where the cool figs, rimy with the early dew, were bursting with scarlet sweetness.

Tell me not of your acrid grape-fruit, or far-fetched orange, wherewithal to break the morning fast! I know of something better. It seems to me that the life we led at Cedar Grove and Shrubbery Hill was busy beyond all parallel.

Everything the family and the plantation needed was manufactured at home, except the fine fabrics, the perfumes, wines, etc. Everything, from the goose-quill pen to carpets, bedspreads, coarse cotton cloth, and linsey-woolsey for servants' clothing, was made at home.

Even corset-laces were braided of cotton threads, the corset itself of home manufacture. Miss Betsey, the housekeeper, was the busiest of women.

Besides her everlasting pickling, preserving, Page 13 and cake-baking, she was engaged, with my aunt, in mysterious incantations over cordials, tonics, camomile, wild cherry, bitter bark, and "vinegar of the four thieves," to be used in sickness. The recipe for the latter—well known in Virginia households a century ago—was probably brought by Thomas Jefferson from France in He was a painstaking collector of everything of practical value.

To this day there exists in the French druggists' code a recipe known as the " Vinaigre des Quatre Voleurs "; and it is that given by condemned malefactors who, according to official records still existing in France, entered deserted houses in the city of Marseilles during a yellow fever epidemic in the seventeenth century and carried off immense quantities of plunder.

They seemed to possess some method of preserving themselves the scourge. Being finally arrested and condemned to be burned to death, an offer was made to the method of inflicting their punishment if they would reveal their secret.

The condemned men then confessed that they always wore over their faces handkerchiefs that had been saturated in strong vinegar and impregnated with certain ingredients, the principal one being bruised garlic. The recipe, still preserved in the Randolph family of Virginia, is an odd one—with a homely flavor— hardly to be expected of a French formula. It requires simply "lavender, rosemary, sage, wormwood, rue and mint, of each a large handful; put them in a pot of earthenware, cover the pot closely, and put a board on the top; keep it in the hottest sun two Page 14 weeks, then strain and bottle it, putting in each a clove of garlic.

When it has settled in the bottle and becomes clear, pour it off gently; do this until you get it all free from sediment. The proper time to make it is when herbs are in full vigor, in June.

If she is inclined to make the experiment, she will achieve a decoction which has the merit at least of romance, the secret of its combination having been purchased by sparing the lives of four distinguished Frenchmen, with the present practical value of providing a refreshing prophylactic for the sick room,—provided the lavender, rosemary, sage, wormwood, rue, and mint completely stifle the clove of garlic!

Pepper and spices were pounded in marble mortars. Sugar was purchased in the bulk—in large cones wrapped in thick blue paper. This was broken into great slices, and then subdivided into cubes by means of a knife and hammer. Sometimes a late winter storm would overtake the new-born lambs, and they would be found forsaken by the flock. The little shivering creatures would be brought to a shelter, and fed with warm milk from the long bottles, in which even now Page 15 we get Farina Cologne.

Soft linen was wrapped around the slender neck, and my dear aunt fed the nurslings with her own white hands. How the lambkins could wag their tiny tails! All the fine muslins of the family, my aunt's great collars, and the ruffles worn by my uncle, my Cousin Charles, and myself, were carefully laundered under my aunt's supervision. Dipped in pearly starch, they were "clapped dry" in our own hands, ironed with small irons, and beautifully crimped on a board with a penknife.

Fine linen was a kind of hall-mark by which a gentleman was "known in the gates when he" sat "among the elders of the land. There was nothing I had not attempted before I rounded my first decade,—churning, printing the butter with wooden moulds, or shaping it into a bristling pineapple; spinning on tiptoe at the great wheel—we had no flax-wheels—and even once scrambling up to the high seat of the weaver and sending the shuttle into hopeless tangles.

Ladies don't nuvver do dem things. There was no railroad to bring us luxuries from the nearest town—Richmond—twenty-five miles distant, and we depended upon the little covered cart of Aunt Mary Miller. Aunt Mary and her husband, Uncle Jacob, were old family servants who had been given their freedom. They lived at the foot of a hill near our house, and down the path, slippery with fallen pine needles, I was often sent with Milly to summon Uncle Jacob, who was the coachman.

He was very old, and gray, and always unwilling to "hitch up de new kerridge in dis bad weather. Aunt Mary was allowed to collect eggs, poultry, and peacock's feathers from the neighbors, take them down to Richmond to her waiting customers, and return with sundry delightful things,—Peter Parley's books, a wax doll, oranges and candy for me, and wonderful stories of the splendors she had seen.

She had other stories than these. One night "a hant" had walked around her cart and "skeered" her old horse "pretty nigh outen his senses"; as to herself, "Humph, I'se used to hants. With a furtive glance lest my elders would hear, she answered: Don't you go an' say I tole you anythin'. Jes you run down to the back of the gyardin as fur as the weepin' willer an' you'll know. Of course I knew already what I should find beneath the willow.

I had often stood at the foot of the two long white slabs and read: This had been their home. The brother had died early, and for love of him the sister had broken her heart. My sweet great-aunt Susannah! Had she not left a lovely Chinese basket—which I was to inherit—full of curious and precious things; a carved ivory fan, necklace, pearls, and amethysts, and a treasure of musk-scented yellow lace?

Miss Susannah used to war blue satin high-heeled slippers. Some o' dese dark nights you'll hear sump'n goin' ' click, click. That's the death-head moth. Milly says it won't hurt anybody, without you meddle with it. I seed hant befo' her mammy was bawn! I tells you it's Miss Susannah comin' on her high heels to see if you meddlin' with her things. I knowed Miss Susannah! She ain't nuvver goin' to let you war her things. Whenever I retired into the inner chambers of my imagination—as was my wont when grown-up people talked politics, or religion, or slavery—I found my pretty fairies all fled, and in their places hollow-eyed goblins and ghosts.

If my gentle Aunt Susannah was permitted to come back to her home, how about all the others who had lived there? My aunt coming for her final good-night kiss would uncover a hot face, to be instantly recovered upon her departure.

All disappeared mysteriously except the chain of lovely beads. One night I slept in them and the next morning they were gone. Ah, you must call up some one of those long-time sleepers. According to latter-day lights, they may "come when you do call. I never did know. I remember an ever coming and going procession of Taylors, Pendletons, Flemings, Fontaines, Pleasants, etc.

These made small impression upon me. Men might come and men might go, but my lessons went on forever; writing, geography, and much reading. Hannah More was the great influence with my aunt and her friends.

Augustine Birrell could never have written his sarcastic review of her in my day. It would not have tolerated. Pierre, my aunt read aloud to me. On every centre table, along with the astral lamp, lay a sumptuous volume in cream and gold. This was the elegant annual "Friendship's Offering," containing the much-admired poems of one Alfred Tennyson, collaborating with his brother Charles. Miss Martineau was much discussed and was distinctly unpopular.

Stories were told of her peculiarities, her ignorance of the etiquette of polite society at the North. When she was in Washington Page 20 in , she was invited by Mrs. Samuel Harrison Smith to an informal dinner at five o clock. Smith had requested three friends to meet her, and had arranged for "a small, genteel dinner. Smith wrote to Mrs. They had taken off their bonnets and large capes. We have been walking all the morning; our lodgings were too distant to return, so we have done as those who have no carriages do in England when they go to pass a social day.

It was a rich treat to hear her talk when the candles were lit and the curtains drawn. Her words flow in a continuous stream, her voice is pleasing, her manners quiet and ladylike. Some guest had brought her maid, and from her I heard a wonderful fairy-godmother story,—of one Cinderella, whose light footstep would not break a glass slipper.

Uncle Remus had not yet dawned upon a waiting world of children, but Cowper had written charmingly about hares and how to domesticate them. I had a flourishing colony of "little Rabs. Into this sacred refuge, ascended by a flight of tiny steps, even Gabriella was forbidden to enter. I could just manage to stand under the low ceiling. There I entertained a strange company. I had no toys of any description, and only one doll, which was much too fine for every day.

I caught a number of them on the sandy margin of a little brook which ran at the bottom of the garden, and Milly helped me to dress them in bits of muslin and lace. Their ungraceful figures forbade their masquerading as ladies—a frog has "no more waist than the continent of Africa,"— but with caps and long skirts they made admirable infants, creeping in the most orthodox fashion.

Of course their prominent eyes and wide mouths left something to be desired; but these were very dear children, over whose mysterious disappearance their Page 22 adoptive mother grieved exceedingly. Could it be that snakes—but no! The suggestion is too awful!

My aunt had a warm affection for a kinswoman who lived seven or eight miles from us. This lady's gentleness and sweetness made her a welcome visitor, and I never tired of hearing her talk, albeit her manner was tinged with sadness. She grieved over the disappearance, years before, of a dear young brother.

He had simply dropped out of sight—her "poor Brother Ben! One night late in summer a cold storm of rain and wind howled without and beat against the windowpanes. A fire was kindled on the hearth, and around it the family gathered for a cosey evening.

Suddenly some one saw a face pressed against the window, and hastened to open the door to the benighted visitor. There, dripping upon the threshold, stood a wretched-looking man. It was Brother Ben! He carried a bundle of blankets on his back which he proceeded to unwind, revealing at last two tiny Indian girls! The frightened little creatures clung to him closely, and only after being brought to the fire and fed on warm milk were sufficiently reassured to permit him to explain himself.

With one on each knee, "Brother Ben" told his story. He had run away to escape the restraints of home and had found his way to the wild Western country beyond the Ohio. Friendly Indians had sheltered and succored him, and he had finally married a young daughter of their chief. When his children were Page 23 born, he "came to himself. For days and nights he was in the wilderness, fording rivers, climbing mountains, hiding under the bushes at night. Finally he overtook a party of homeward-bound huntsmen, and in their company succeeded in reaching his sister's door.

I never knew what became of him, but the children were adopted by their aunt as her own. They were queer little round creatures, knowing no word of English, but affectionate and docile. I was much with them, delighting to teach them. I cared no more for Gabriella nor my rabbits and frogs. I thought no more of fairies and midnight apparitions. Here was food enough for imagination, different from anything I had ever dreamed of,—romance brought to my very door.

Without doubt the Indian mother, far away towards the setting sun, wept for her babies, but nobody, excepting myself, seemed to think of her. Could I write to her? Could I, some day, find a huntsman going westward and send her a message? She might even come to them! Some dark night I might see her dusky face pressed against the window-pane, peering in!

As time wore on, the children grew to be great girls, and their Indian peculiarities of feature and coloring became so pronounced that they were constantly wounded by being mistaken for mulattoes.

Page 24 There was no school in Virginia where they could be happy. No lady would willingly allow her little girls to associate with them. Evidently there was no future for them in Virginia. Finally their aunt found through our Quaker friends an excellent school, I think in Ohio, and thither the little wanderers were sent, were kindly treated, were educated, and grew up to be good women who married well.

My aunt made many long journeys—across the state to the White Sulphur Springs of which I remember nothing but crowds and discomfort—to Amherst, where my father lived, to Charlotte to visit my grandfather, and to Albemarle to visit friends among the mountains.

She joined house-parties for a few weeks every summer; and one of these I, then a very little child, can perfectly recollect. The country house, like all Virginia houses, was built of elastic material capable of sheltering any number of guests, many of whom remained all summer.

Indeed, this was expected when a visit was promised. Sometimes Page 25 a happy guest would ignore time altogether and stay along from season to season. I cannot remember a parallel case to that of Isaac Watts, who, invited by Sir Thomas Abney to spend a night at Stoke Newington, accepted with great cheerfulness and staid twenty years, but I do remember that an invitation for one night brought to a member of our family a pleasant couple who remained four years.

Virginia was excelled, it seems, by the mother country. At this my first house-party there were many young people—among them the famous beauty, Anne Carmichael, and the then famous poet and novelist, Jane Lomax.

These, with a number of bright young men, made a gay party. Every moonlight night it was the custom to bring the horses to the door-steps, and all would mount and go off for a visit to some neighbor.

I was told, however, that the object of these nocturnal rides was to enable Miss Lomax to write poetry on the moon, and I was sorely perplexed as to the possibility, without the longest kind of a pen, of accomplishing such a feat. I spent hours reasoning out the problem, and had finally almost brought myself to the point of consulting the young lady herself,—although I distinctly thought there was something mysterious and uncanny about her,—when something occurred which strained relations between her and myself.

An uninteresting bachelor from town had appeared on the scene, to the chagrin of the young people, whose circle was complete without him. He belonged to the class representing in that day the present-day "little brothers of the rich," often Page 26 the most agreeable relations the rich can boast, but in this case decidedly the reverse. It was thought that the present intruder was "looking for a wife,"—he had been known to descend upon other house-parties without an invitation, —and it was deliberately determined to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders.

Our amiable hostess, however, emphatically put a stop to this. I learned the state of things and resented it. I resolved to devote myself to him, and to espouse his cause against his enemies. One day when the young ladies were together in my aunt's room there was great merriment over the situation in regard to "old True," and many jests to his disadvantage related and laughed over.

To my great delight Miss Lomax presently announced: Trueheart is a favorite of mine. I shall certainly accept him if he asks me. I saw daylight for my injured friend, and immediately set forth to find him.

He was sitting alone under the trees, on the lawn, and welcomed the little girl tripping over the grass to keep him company. On his knee I eagerly gave him my delightful news, and saw his face illumined by it. I was perfectly happy—and so, he assured me, was he! That evening my aunt observed an unwonted excitement in my face and manner—and after feeling my pulse and hot cheeks decided I was better off in bed, and sent me to my room, which happened Page 27 to be in a distant part of the house.

To reach it I had to go through a long, narrow, dark hall. I always traversed this hall at night with bated breath. Tiny doors were let into the wall near the floor, opening into small apertures then known by the obsolescent name of "cuddies. So far from the family, nobody would hear me if I screamed. Suppose something were to jump out at me from those cuddies! In the middle of this fearsome place I heard quick steps behind.

Before I could run or scream, strong fingers gripped my shoulders and shook me, and a fierce whisper hissed in my ear—" You little devil! He left early next morning and so did we—my aunt perceiving that the excitement of the gay house- party was not good for me. I learned there were other things besides hot roast apples to be avoided. Fingers might be burned by meddling with people's love affairs.

We were not the only guests who left the hospitable, gay, noisy, sleep-forbidding house. Our host had an eccentric sister whom we all addressed as "Cousin Betsey Michie," and who had left her own home expressly to spend a few weeks here with my aunt, to whom she was much attached.

When "Cousin Betsey" discovered our intended departure, she ordered her maid "Liddy" to pack her trunk,—a little nail-studded box covered with goatskin, Page 28 —and insisted upon claiming us as her guests for the rest of the season.

I wondered what I should do, were she ever to kiss me,—which she never did,—and had made up my mind to keep away from her as far as possible. I owed her nothing, I reasoned, as she was not really my cousin. She used strong language, and was intolerant of all the singing, dancing, and midnight rides of the young people. Her room was immediately beneath mine. But the night before, lying awake after my startling interview with the poetess, I had heard the galloping horses of the party returning from a midnight visit to "Edgeworth," and the harsh voice of Cousin Betsey calling to her sister: Don't you dare get out of bed to give those scamps supper—a passel of ramfisticated villians, cavorting all over the country like wild Indians.

As we heard much about Johnsonian English from Cousin Betsey, it was reasonable to suppose, my aunt thought, that the startling word was classic. One evening while we were her guests she suddenly asked if I could write. I was about to give her an indignant affirmative, when my aunt interrupted, "Not very well.

Maria Gordon has been copying for me, but such fantastic flourishes! It will be Greek copied into Sanskrit if she does it. Well, what can the child do? Are your hands clean? Wash them again, honey; you must help Liddy make the Fuller's pies for my dinner-party to-morrow. But I found the "Fuller's pies" were quite within my powers.

Il est au nid de la pie, " says Rabelais. As to my hands—I feel persuaded that Cousin Betsey's guests would have been reassured could they have known to a certainty the old lady had not prepared them with her own! A glass bowl was placed before me forthwith,—a bowl of boiling water, some almonds and raisins. These were the "pies" birds in a nest , and very attractive they were, piled in the quaint old bowl with its fine diamond cutting.

As to the "Fuller" thus immortalized, I looked him up, furtively, in the great Johnson's Dictionary which lay in solitary grandeur upon a table in the old lady's bedroom. Finding him unsatisfactory, I concluded Dr. Johnson was not, after all, the great man Cousin Betsey would have me believe.

She quoted him on all occasions as authority upon all Page 30 subjects. Boswell's Life of him, "Rasselas," "The Journey to the Hebrides," and "The Rambler" held places of honor upon the shelves of her small bookcase. They will teach you to speak and write English ,—you need no other language, —and everything else you need know except sewing and cooking.

She was, at the moment, engaged in writing a novel, "Some Fact and Some Fiction," which was to appear serially in the Southern Literary Messenger.

I listened "with all my ears" to her talk concerning it with my aunt. It was to be a satire upon the affectations of the day —especially upon certain innovations in dress and custom brought by her cousin "Judy," the accomplished wife of our late Minister to France, Mr.

Rives, and transplanted upon the soil of Albemarle County; also the introduction of Italian words to music in place of good old English. The heroine was exquisitely simple, her muslin gown clasped with modest pearl brooch and a rose-geranium leaf. This was deemed a clever satire on the unintelligible Italian words of recent songs, and ran through several verses, describing the Frog's courtship of Mistress Mouse, who seems to have been a fair lady with domestic habits who lived in a mill and was occupied with her spinning.

I was full of anticipation on the great day of the dinner-party. The house was spick and span. I filled a bowl with damask roses from the garden, sparing the microphylla, clusters that hung so prettily over the front porch.

The dinner was to be at two o'clock. A few minutes before two a sable horseman galloped up to the door, dismounted, and, scraping his foot backward as he bared a head covered with gray wool, presented a note which my aunt read aloud: That sounds like that idiot, Tom Moore.

I helped to pick the berries and gather the eggs from the nests in the privet hedge. Also for several days I had a steady diet of "Fuller's pies. Still, Cousin Betsey must have been, in her way, a great woman, for it was of her that Thomas Jefferson exclaimed, "God send she were a man, that I might make her Professor in my University.

The Morus multicaulis , upon the leaves of which the silkworm feeds, can be propagated from slips or cuttings. These cutting commanded a fabulous price. To plant them was to lay a sure foundation for a great fortune. My uncle visited Richmond at a time when the mania had reached fever-heat. Men hurried through the streets, with bundles of twigs under their arms, as if they were flying from an enemy.

All over the city auction sales were held, and fortunes were lost or gained—as they are to-day in Wall Street—with the fluctuations of the market. Long galleries, roofed with glass, were hastily erected all over the country, the last year's eggs of the Bombyx mori obtained at great price, and the freshly gathered leaves of the Morus multicaulis laid in readiness for their hatching.

My uncle ridiculed this madness, although as a physician it interested him. It is a fine tonic. They will need no bark and camomile while the fever lasts. With my narrow skirts drawn closely around me, I tiptoed gingerly along the aisles dividing the long tables, and saw the hideous, grayish yellow, three-inch worms—each one armed with a rhinoceros-like horn on his head—devouring leaves for dear life.

They had need for haste. Their time was short. Think of the millions of brave men and fair ladies who were waiting for the strong, shining threads it was their humble destiny to spin!

I saw the ease with which their spider-web thread was caught in hot water, and wound in balls as easily as I wound the wools for my aunt's knitting.

Nothing came of it all! In time all the Morus multicaulis was dug up, and good, sensible corn planted in its stead. Does not Morus come from the Greek word for "fool"? Henry Clay was his idol. When the great man passed through Virginia, all Hanover went to Richmond to do him the honor, ourselves among the number.

He was a son of Hanover, the "Mill boy of the Slashes. No living man except Webster equalled him in all that the world holds essential to greatness—none was as dear to the mass of people.

And yet neither could be elected to the post of Chief Magistrate of those adoring people! Clay, at the time he visited Richmond, was confident he would win this honor.

My uncle resolved I should see "the next President. My uncle found a vacant doorstep on the line of march, and there we awaited the great man's coming. You may never again see the greatest man in the world.

The crowd thronged us, and my uncle caught me to a vantage-ground on his shoulder. A tumbling sea of hats was all I could see! Presently a space appeared in the procession, and a tall man on the arm of another looked up with a rare smile to the small maiden, lifted his hat, and bowed to her!

My uncle never allowed me to forget that one supreme moment in my child-life. To this day I cannot look at the fine bronze statuette of Henry Clay in my husband's library without a sensation born of the pride of that hour. I am afraid the small maiden dearly loved glory! Page 36 Nobody would ever have guessed the ambitious little heart beating, the next winter, under the cherry merino; nor the conscious lips deep in her poke-bonnet that followed the prayers at church and implored mercy for a miserable sinner!

For she had, during that glorious summer, another shining hour to remember. Those penitent lips had been kissed by a great man all the way from England—a man who had kissed the hand of a queen! She had a dim apprehension of virtue through the laying on of hands in church. What, then, might not come in the way of royal attribute from the laying on of lips! Great thoughts like these so swelled my bosom that I was fain to reveal them to my little Quaker cousin at Shrubbery Hill.

She received them gravely. The Princess Isabella, born, like myself, in , was even then known as the future queen of Spain. It was an age of young queens.

Among the strangers from abroad who found their way to Virginia, none was more honored in Hanover than the Quaker author and philanthropist, Joseph John Gurney. He was the brother of Elizabeth Fry, who gave her life to the amelioration of the prison horrors of England. My uncle entertained Dr. The house was filled with guests to its utmost capacity. A picture of the long dining-tables rises before me— the gold-and-white best service, the flowers—and Page 37 the sweetest flower of all, my young aunt.

She was tall and graceful and very beautiful,—with large gray eyes, dark curls framing her face, delicate features, a lovely smile! She wore a narrow gown of pearl silk, the "surplice" waist belted high, and sleeves distended at the top by means of feather cushions tied in the armholes.

I remember my uncle ordered the dinner to be served quietly and in a leisurely manner. Gurney drew forth his scrapbook and pencils, and began, as he talked, to retouch sketches he had made during his journey.

The parlor was simply furnished. The Virginian of that day seemed to attach small importance to the style of his furniture. His chief pride was in his table, his fine wines, his horses and equipage, and the perfect comfort he could give his guests. There was no bric-a-brac, there were no pictures or brackets on the wall. I have seen the plate in which they were served. She was not responsible for the taste of this inherited home, which she had not tenanted Page 38 very long.

The walls of the parlor were papered with a wonderful representation of a Venetian scene —printed at intervals of perhaps four or more feet. Down this stair came the most adorable creature in the world,—roses on her brocade gown, roses on her broad hat,—and at the foot of the stair a cavalier, also adorable, extended his hand to conduct her to the gondola in waiting.

In the distance were more castles, more sea, more gondolas. In this room the distinguished stranger met the company convened in his honor. If he gasped or shuddered at the ornate walls, he gave no sign. The little girl on the ottoman in the chimney corner, permitted to sit up late because of the rare occasion, listened with wide eyes to conversation she could not understand. Weighty matters were discussed,—for all the world was alive to the question which had to be met later,—the possibility of freeing the slaves under the present constitutional laws.

This was a small gathering of the wise men of our neighborhood—come to consult a wise man from the country that had met and solved a similar problem. Perhaps all of these men had, like my uncle, given freedom to inherited slaves. Presently I found myself, as I half dreamed in the corner, caught up by strong arms to the bosom of the great man himself.

Bending over the sleepy head, he whispered a strange story—how that, far away across the seas, there was once a little girl Page 39 "just like you" who loved her play, and loved to sit up and hear grown people talk—how a lady came to her one day and said, "My child you must study and learn to deny yourself much pleasure, for soon you will be the queen of England" —how the little girl neither laughed nor cried, but said, "I will be good"—how time had gone on, and she had kept her promise and was now grown up to be a lovely lady; and sure enough, just a little while ago had been crowned queen—and how everybody was glad, because they knew, as she had been a good child, she would be a good queen.

That was a long time ago. Many things have happened and been forgotten since then; the Venetian lady and her cavalier have sailed away in unknown seas; the good Englishman has long since gone to his rest; the queen has won, God grant, an immortal crown, having lived to be old, never forgetting all along her life her promise; and the little girl has lived to be old, too!

She has dreamed many dreams, but none more beautiful than the one she probably dreamed that night,—all roses and castles and gondolas, and a gracious young queen lovelier than all the rest. Thus passed the first eight years of my life. Compared with those that followed, they were years of absolute serenity and happiness.

They were not gay. This was the time when people who "feared God and desired to save their souls" felt bound to forsake the Established Church, many of whose clergy had become objects of disgust rather than of reverence.

Dissenters and Quakers lived all around Page 40 us; my uncle and aunt were Presbyterians, and I heard little but sober talk in my early years. Sometimes we attended the silent meetings of the Quakers, and sometimes old St. Martin's, to which many of our Episcopal friends belonged.

Extreme asceticism, however, was as far from the temper of my aunt and uncle as was the extreme of dissipation. They were strict in the observance of the Sabbath and of all religious duties. Temperance in speech and living, moderation, serenity,—these ruled the life at Cedar Grove. In there was a charming princess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz; intelligent, amiable, and only seventeen years of age. She had stepped forth from the conventional ranks of the young noblewomen of her day, and written a spirited letter to Frederick the Great, in which she entreated him to stop the ravages of war then desolating the German States.

She had painted in vivid colors the miseries resulting from the brutality of the Prussian soldiery. It appears that this letter reached the eyes of the Prince of Wales. He fell in love with the letter before he ever knew the writer.

Queen of Hearts Payout Tables and Rules. Adams disfuckingusting -- submitted by: Fine if you have MS Office, but not otherwise. If you click for the HTML version, the screen you see will be mostly blank. Hold the shift key down and highlight the entire article to get it to display. No point in copying and pasting -- nothing pastes. Where it will display properly, word n. The trouble is that the old school is … like, schoolacho. Go shower or something, cause you are smellacho.

Sometimes used just for variety, sometimes used to create interjections from verbs. A suffix that can be added, against all rules of grammar and logic, to the end of nouns and verbs to make new nouns and verbs. After pulling off a difficult nosegrind on your skateboard Oooh, grindage. There's a serious lack of foodage in Tony's house.

In the marathon, she expected to be getting her runnage on for at least two hours. For some reason, this particular derivational suffix disappeared from English despite the large number of -age words; it is, nonetheless, very useful for the creation of adjectives of slightly different meaning from the currently accepted ones.

It helps, moreover, with postpositive constructions, such as "he is an idiot villagic" instead of "he is a village idiot. Listen, in that decolletagic piece of frippery, nobody's going to notice your lipstick. Formerly an actor turned adult writer of juvenalia, he has declared, if I remember right, that his trusty sixth-grade Words for Big Kids!

Such a rule, applied to modern English, would be highly productive, since we have so many nouns that end in -ance. Note, however, that the rule applies only to noun: See "-a-licious," "-tastic," and "xtra-. This is a gross-ass sandwich. That was a stupid-ass movie. Thou art but a cuboid hexahedrone: Thou hast no power to resist my will! Thou shalt pop neither thy zippers nor thy seems! Stint not thy capaciousness, hexadrone, lest I summon the wonderly massive sumo wrestler down the hall to sit upon thee and crush thy pride and thy reckless defiance, that I may close thee with thy clasps and zippers, and bind thee with bonds of cord and chain, and, willy nilly, return home, make thee to disgorge all thy contents, and give thee into the hands of eBay!

This weekend we should like go 'n like do stuff and like, yeah. Socket for or container or holder of something; by extension, on its own "ingo" , 2. The proper place for something e. The position to which someone aspires or the goal they want to reach. You don't have any flashlights? Well, this candle's bur--yeow! Gimme a … whatever it's called … you know: I dropped it, it's snuffed. You know, I think I'll just sit here and let my third-degree burns heal in the dark, thanks.

I just made some waffles in my waffleironiser. Ha, I just made a smoothie in my blenderiser. Multi-purpose suffix for everything. Can also be used alone -- usually with a waggle of the dominant hand. A suffix used mostly with adjectives that means the same thing as "kind of" or "kind of like" when added to a word. In response to a question like "How's it goin'? What did you think of the concert's story-ish format? A no-brainer way of turning nouns into verbs. Frowned upon by many pedants.

The burglar burgled the house. The burglar burglarized the house. Alan Feldman, MGM's executive vice president of global industry affairs, said the industry over the past two decades has focused on tackling the issue "when the fun stops" — also the name of a problem gambling awareness campaign — but the company is expanding its efforts to address the concerns even before the activity stops being fun and affordable.

What we should be doing is having a regular ongoing dialogue with our customers to make sure that what they're doing is safe and fun for them and their families," he said. The company later this year will roll out a new responsible gaming program at its properties in Las Vegas and other states.

The lone regulator on the panel, Nevada Gaming Control Board member Terry Johnson, said the next challenge for the industry that fuels the Silver State's economy is the legalization of recreational marijuana.

He said existing gambling regulations address impairment from alcohol, but the statutes and regulations are "silent" on marijuana impairment. Back pain affects millions of lives, but Vanderbilt University engineers are developing something that might prevent it: If you're curious why there are some weird procedures e. This information is obviously valuable to casino managers, but there are additional explanations geared towards casino management. How do you identify an advantage player or cheater?

How much will this player cost you? What is the most effective way to deal with him? Forte identifyies many other legitimate authors in this business both from the player and casino perspective that readers might search for additional information. Without exception, every source cited is one I would recommend for the topic addressed. By Jason England on March 14, I was fortunate enough to be allowed to copy-edit this book as it was in production.

I make this admission up front in case anyone thinks this review might be a bit biased. Simply put, Steve's book is the single most important book ever published on the subject of casino game protection. No other book even comes close. The book clocks in right at about pages of text, with an additional 19 pages of glossary, and a complete index.

Somewhere in the neighborhood of color photographs illustrate the text in the appropriate places. This thing is nothing if not a monster! It is difficult to summarize the contents of the book in part because of its sheer size. Suffice to say that many, many different scams, hustles, cheating methods and even a few never before seen techniques are revealed.

All in an informal, and very easy to follow style. If you're a casino owner, GM, Floor person, or pit boss, and you're not reading this book, I suggest you attempt to get a copy immediately. Maybe your games are already safe, maybe they aren't. In any event, this book will open your eyes to some possibilities that you've probably never considered. This book deserves the highest possible recommendation. By Guadalupe on November 23, I have read this book and I can honestly say that it is the best book in the gambling industry.

I have had knowledge in surveillance and the law enforcement field. I dedicated my time and effort in being a student in the gaming industry. The book offers a thorough knowledge in gaming protection. This is an ideal book for anyone who is serious about their employment in a casino. I believe the price of the book is expensive, but rather rewarding in the long term. I just simply love this book. See all 5 reviews.

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Lists with This Book. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Dec 15, G rated it it was amazing. Forte is the most knowledgeable game security expert on the planet.

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