corkscrew

Item No. comdagen-6602032538173348474
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boat, and I was afeard she mightn't stop there.  When they're deep they won't stop for a hail.  A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.” “Was Peter Wilks well off?” “Oh, yes, pretty well off.  He had houses and land, and it's reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som'ers.” “When did you say he died?” “I didn't say, but it was last night.” “Funeral to-morrow, likely?” “Yes, 'bout the middle of the day.” “Well, it's all terrible sad; but we've all got to go, o

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wide around, At length composed they sit, and shade the ground. Great Hector first amidst both armies broke The solemn silence, and their powers bespoke: "Hear, all ye Trojan, all ye Grecian bands, What my soul prompts, and what some god commands. Great Jove, averse our warfare to compose, O'erwhelms the nations with new toils and woes; War with a fiercer tide once more returns, Till Ilion falls, or till yon navy burns. You then, O princes of the Greeks! appear; 'Tis Hector speaks, and calls the gods to hear: From all your troops select the boldest knight, And him, the boldest, Hector dares to fight. Here if I fall, by chance of battle slain, Be his my spoil, and his these arms remain; But let my body, to my friends return'd, By Trojan hands and Trojan flames be burn'd. And if Apollo, in whose aid I trust, Shall stretch your daring champion in the dust; If mine the glory to despoil the foe; On Phoebus' temple I'll his arms bestow: The breathless carcase to your navy sent, Greece on the shore shall raise a monument; Which when some future mariner surveys, Wash'd by broad Hellespont's resounding seas, Thus shall he say, 'A valiant Greek lies there, By Hector slain, the mighty man of war,' The stone shall tell your vanquish'd hero's name. And distant ages learn the victor's fame." This fierce defiance Greece astonish'd heard, Blush'd to refuse, and to accept it fear'd. Stern Menelaus first the silence broke, And, inly groaning, thus opprobrious spoke: "Women of Greece! O scandal of your race, Whose coward souls your manly form disgrace, How great the shame, when every age shall know That not a Grecian met this noble foe! Go then! resolve to earth, from whence ye grew, A heartless, spiritless, inglorious crew! Be what ye seem, unanimated clay, Myself will dare the danger of the day; 'Tis man's bold task the generous strife to try, But in the hands of God is victory." These words