The boatman baulked at the arch twice. It was evident they must go through just behind the crest of a wave. He headed in just a moment or so too soon, got through on the very crest, bent double to save his head, made a clumsy lunge with his oar that struck the rock and threw him sideways. Then they were rushing with incredible swiftness out of the arch down a blue-green slope of water, and the Faraglione rose again before Dolly??s eyes like a thing relieved after a moment of intense concentration. But suddenly everything was sideways. Everything was askew. The boat was half overturned and the boatman was sitting unsteadily on the gunwale, clutching at the opposite side which was rising, rising. The man, she realized, was going overboard, and Arthur??s swift grab at him did but complete the capsize. The side of the boat was below her where the floor should be, and that gave way to streaming bubbling water into which one man plunged on the top of the other....
They drove along, faster and faster, until they came to a great portal, and out into the blinding radiance of a molten copper sky.
the straits, Amos became excited again. He had seen other warships pass through, firing as they ran, and there was evidently a warm reply from certain enemy batteries and forts, for explosions could be seen in the air, as well as upheavals in the water, looking like the geysers in Yellowstone Park.
But rounding the upper turn Duane shook him off and entered the stretch an open length and a half in front. Again a great shout went up from the backers of the peerless brown stallion as they saw his move, and again as the sound reached Boston it seemed to lend him wings. Running true and straight as a bullet flies, without touch of whip, the whitefaced son of Timoleon began to devour the space that separated him from his antagonist, and as they passed the stand at the end of the second mile his white nose was at Duane’s hip. Going around the lower turn the boys again took easy pulls on their horses, and in this position they go up the stretch and around the upper turn, Boston holding his place with the tenacity of a bull dog. But the white star of Duane is still in front as they swing into the stretch, and again his backers greet him with a cheer and again “old white nose” takes the compliment to himself and promptly, in response, he quickens his stride and again reaches Duane. Half-way down the stretch he collars him, and as they pass the stand his white nose is in front for the first time since starting on this last heat. It was now the time for Boston’s friends to cheer, and if pandemonium had broken loose more noise could not have been made. Men were simply wild with excitement. They danced about like children; hats, coats and canes were thrown into the air. Gilpatrick and I hugged each other and shouted ourselves hoarse, and, as the horses rounded the lower turn, the shouting increased, as it was seen that Boston, inspired by the shouting, no doubt, had kept up his killing stride and had taken the track from Duane. But to experienced riders like Gil and I this sudden change in position was rather a source of uneasiness. We both knew Hartman well. He was every inch a rider and a cool and skillful horseman, and we could see that he had taken a strong pull on his horse, saving him for the terrific finish he knew was yet to come. Knowing from our own experience in the saddle what was coming we paid no attention to the over-sanguine friends of Boston shouting: “Duane has quit!” “Duane has quit!” We knew the horse and we knew the rider, and we also knew that a race for life was coming and our fortunes were on the issue. So we anxiously watched them as they raced nose and tail, with Boston leading up the back side and around the upper turn.
Nor had he ever looked any one full in the eye in his life.
“Did you send for me, my lord?” he asked.
And the laugh that I hear has a soberer tone,
The historians of botany have overlooked the real state of the case as here presented, or have not described it with sufficient emphasis; due attention has not been paid to the fact, that systematic botany, as it began to develope in the 17th century, contained within itself from the first two opposing elements; on the one hand the fact of a natural affinity indistinctly felt, which was brought out by the botanists of Germany and the Netherlands, and on the other the desire, to which Cesalpino first gave expression, of arriving by the path of clear perception at a classification of the vegetable kingdom which should satisfy the understanding. These two elements of systematic investigation were entirely incommensurable; it was not possible by the use of arbitrary principles of classification which satisfied the understanding to do justice at the same time to the instinctive feeling for natural affinity which would not be argued away. This incommensurability between natural affinity and a priori grounds of classification is everywhere expressed in the systems embracing the whole vegetable kingdom, which were proposed up to 1736, and which including those of Cesalpino and Linnaeus were not less in number than fifteen. It is the custom to describe these systems, of which those of Cesalpino, Morison, Ray, Bachmann (Rivinus), and Tournefort are the most important, by the one word ‘artificial’; but it was by no means the intention of those men to propose classifications of the vegetable kingdom which should be merely artificial, and do no more than offer an
“Now surely,” thought he, “the adventure of last night was not all a dream, and I shall certainly find my cows when I go home; for that excellent, good young wolf promised his help, and I feel certain he would not deceive me.”
His voice fell away in a sort of quaver at the end of these words.
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