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Feb. 4, 2010 - ?Rosa!? said Eva, ?hush! Don?t you say another...

?Rosa!? said Eva, ?hush! Don?t you say another word of that sort!? and the eye of the child flashed, and her cheek deepened its color Rosa was cowed in a moment ?Miss Eva has got the StClare blood in her, that?s plainShe can speak, for all the world, just like her papa,? she said, as she passed out of the room Eva stood looking at Topsy There stood the two children representatives of the two extremes of societyThe fair, high-bred child, with her golden head, her deep eyes, her spiritual, noble brow, and prince-like movements; and her black, keen, subtle, cringing, yet acute neighborThey stood the representatives of their racesThe Saxon, born of ages of cultivation, command, education, physical and moral eminence; the Afric, born of ages of oppression, submission, ignorance, toil and vice! Something, perhaps, of such thoughts struggled through Eva?s mindBut a child?s thoughts are rather dim, undefined instincts; and in Eva?s noble nature many such were yearning and working, for which she had no power of utteranceWhen Miss Ophelia expatiated on Topsy?s naughty, wicked conduct, the child looked perplexed and sorrowful, but said, sweetly ?Poor Topsy, why need you steal? You?re going to be taken good care of nowI?m sure I?d rather give you anything of mine, than have you steal it It was the first word of kindness the child had ever heard in her life; and the sweet tone and manner struck strangely on the wild, rude heart, and a sparkle of something like a tear shone in the keen, round, glittering eye; but it was followed by the short laugh and habitual grinNo! the ear that has never heard anything but abuse is strangely incredulous of anything so heavenly as kindness; and Topsy only thought Eva?s speech something funny and inexplicable,?she did not believe it But what was to be done with Topsy? Miss Ophelia found the case a puzzler; her rules for bringing up didn?t seem to applyShe thought she would take time to think of it; and, by the way of gaining time, and in hopes of some indefinite moral virtues supposed to be inherent in dark closets, Miss Ophelia shut Topsy up in one till she had arranged her ideas further on the subject ?I don?t see,? said Miss Ophelia to StClare, ?how I?m going to manage that child, without whipping her ?Well, whip her, then, to your heart?s content; I?ll give you full power to do what you like ?Children always have to be whipped,? said Miss Ophelia; ?I never heard of bringing them up without ?O, well, certainly,? said StClare; ?do as you think bestOnly I?ll make one suggestion: I?ve seen this child whipped with a poker, knocked down with the shovel or tongs, whichever came handiest,

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Feb. 3, 2010 - Arthur was silent, and was, I could see, striving...

Arthur was silent, and was, I could see, striving to grasp the purpose and the inner meaning of the mysteryI was myself tolerably patient, and half inclined again to throw aside doubt and to accept Van Helsing's conclusionsQuincey Morris was phlegmatic in the way of a man who accepts all things, and accepts them in the spirit of cool bravery, with hazard of all he has at stakeNot being able to smoke, he cut himself a good-sized plug of tobacco and began to chewAs to Van Helsing, he was employed in a definite wayFirst he took from his bag a mass of what looked like thin, wafer-like biscuit, which was carefully rolled up in a white napkinNext he took out a double handful of some whitish stuff, like dough or puttyHe crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it into the mass between his handsThis he then took, and rolling it into thin strips, began to lay them into the crevices between the door and its setting in the tombI was somewhat puzzled at this, and being close, asked him what it was that he was doingArthur and Quincey drew near also, as they too were curious He answered, "I am closing the tomb so that the UnDead may not enter "And is that stuff you have there going to do it?" "It is "What is that which you are using?" This time the question was by ArthurVan Helsing reverently lifted his hat as he answeredI brought it from Amsterdam It was an answer that appalled the most sceptical of us, and we felt individually that in the presence of such earnest purpose as the Professor's, a purpose which could thus use the to him most sacred of things, it was impossible to distrustIn respectful silence we took the places assigned to us close round the tomb, but hidden from the sight of any one approachingI pitied the others, especially ArthurI had myself been apprenticed by my former visits to this watching horror, and yet I, who had up to an hour ago repudiated the proofs, felt my heart sink within meNever did tombs look so ghastly whiteNever did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embodiment of funeral gloomNever did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominouslyNever did bough creak so mysteriously, and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night There was a long spell of silence, big, aching, void, and then from the Professor a keen "S-s-s-s!" He pointed, and far down the avenue of yews we saw a white figure advance, a dim white figure, which held something dark at its breastThe figure stopped, and at the moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving clouds, and showed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman, dressed in the cerements of the graveWe could not see the face, for it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired childThere was a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in sleep, or a dog as it lies before the fire and dreamsWe were starting forward, but the Professor's warning hand, seen by us as he stood behind a yew tree, kept us backAnd then as we looked the white figure moved forwards againIt was now near enough for us to see clearly, and the moonlight still heldMy own heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur, as we recognized the features of Lucy WestenraLucy Westenra, but yet how changedThe sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness Van Helsing stepped out, and obedient to his gesture, we all advanced tooThe four of us ranged in a line before the door of the tombVan Helsing raised his lantern and drew the slideBy the concentrated light that fell on Lucy's face we could see that the lips were crimson with fresh blood, and that the stream had trickled over her chin and stained the purity of her lawn death-robe We shuddered with horrorI could see by the tremulous light that even Van Helsing's iron nerve had shop failed

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Feb. 2, 2010 - ?But when do you expect to go?? ?Well, I want...

?But when do you expect to go?? ?Well, I want spectin nothin; only Sam, he?s a gwine to de river with some colts, and he said I could go long with him; so I jes put my things togetherIf Missis was willin, I?d go with Sam tomorrow morning, if Missis would write my pass, and write me a commendation ?Well, Chloe, I?ll attend to it, if MrShelby has no objectionsShelby went up stairs, and Aunt Chloe, delighted, went out to her cabin, to make her preparation ?Law sakes, Mas?r George! ye didn?t know I ?s a gwine to Louisville tomorrow!? she said to George, as entering her cabin, he found her busy in sorting over her baby?s clothes?I thought I?d jis look over sis?s things, and get ?em straightened upBut I?m gwine, Mas?r George,?gwine to have four dollars a week; and Missis is gwine to lay it all up, to buy back my old man agin!? ?Whew!? said George, ?here?s a stroke of business, to be sure! How are you going?? ?Tomorrow, wid SamAnd now, Mas?r George, I knows you?ll jis sit down and write to my old man, and tell him all about it,?won?t ye?? ?To be sure,? said George; ?Uncle Tom?ll be right glad to hear from usI?ll go right in the house, for paper and ink; and then, you know, Aunt Chloe, I can tell about the new colts and all ?Sartin, sartin, Mas?r George; you go ?long, and I?ll get ye up a bit o? chicken, or some sich; ye won?t have many more suppers wid yer poor old aunty Chapter 22 ?The Grass Withereth?the Flower Fadeth? Life passes, with us all, a day at a time; so it passed with our friend Tom, till two years were goneThough parted from all his soul held dear, and though often yearning for what lay beyond, still was he never positively and consciously miserable; for, so well is the harp of human feeling strung, that nothing but a crash that breaks every string can wholly mar its harmony; and, on looking back to seasons which in review appear to us as those of deprivation and trial, we can remember that each hour, as it glided, brought its diversions and alleviations, so that, though not happy wholly, we were not, either, wholly miserable Tom read, in his only literary cabinet, of one who had ?learned in whatsoever state he was, therewith to be content It seemed to him good and reasonable doctrine, and accorded well with the settled and thoughtful habit which he had acquired from the reading of that same book His letter homeward, as we related in the last chapter, was in due time answered by Master George, in a good, round, school-boy hand, that Tom said might be read ?most acrost the room It contained various refreshing items of home intelligence, with which our reader is fully acquainted: stated how Aunt Chloe had been hired out to a confectioner in Louisville, where her skill in the pastry line was gaining wonderful sums of money, all of which, Tom was informed, was to be laid up to go to make up the sum of his redemption money; Mose and Pete were thriving, and the baby was trotting all about the house, under the care of Sally and the family generally Tom?s cabin was shut up for the present; but George expatiated brilliantly on ornaments and additions to be made to it when Tom came back The rest of this letter gave a list of George?s school studies, each one headed by a flourishing capital; and also told the names of four new colts that appeared on the premises since Tom left; and stated, in the same connection, that father and mother were wellThe style of the letter was decidedly concise and terse; but Tom thought it the most wonderful specimen of composition that had appeared in modern timesHe was never tired of looking at it, and even held a council with Eva on the expediency of getting it framed, to hang up in his roomNothing but the difficulty of arranging it so that both sides of the page would show at once stood in the way of this undertaking The friendship between Tom and Eva had grown with the child?s growthIt would be hard to say what place she held in the soft, impressible heart of her faithful attendantHe loved her as something frail and earthly, yet almost worshipped her as something heavenly and divineHe gazed on her as the Italian sailor gazes on his image of the child Jesus,?with a mixture of reverence and tenderness; and to humor her graceful fancies, and meet those thousand simple wants which invest childhood like a many-colored rainbow, was Tom?s chief delightIn the market, at morning, his eyes were always on the flower-stalls for rare bouquets for her, and the choicest peach or orange was slipped into his pocket to give to her when he came back; and the sight that pleased him most was her sunny head looking out the gate for his distant approach, and her childish questions,??Well, Uncle Tom, what have you got for me today?? Nor was Eva less zealous in kind offices, in returnThough a child, she was a beautiful reader;?a fine musical ear, a quick poetic fancy, and an instinctive sympathy with what?s grand and noble, made her such a reader of the Bible as Tom had never before heardAt first, she read to please her humble friend; but soon her own earnest nature threw out its tendrils, and wound itself around the majestic book; and Eva loved it, because it woke in her strange yearnings, and strong, dim emotions, such as impassioned, imaginative children love to feel The parts that pleased her most were the Revelations and the Prophecies,?parts whose dim and wondrous imagery, and fervent language, impressed her the more, that she questioned vainly of their meaning;?and she and her simple friend, the old child and the young one, felt just alike about itAll that they knew was, that they spoke of a glory to be revealed,?a wondrous something yet to come, wherein their soul rejoiced, yet knew not why; and though it be not so in the physical, yet in moral science that which cannot be understood is not always profitlessFor the soul awakes, a trembling stranger, between two dim eternities,?the eternal past, the eternal futureThe light shines only on a small space around her; therefore, she needs must yearn towards the unknown; and the voices and shadowy movings which come to her from out the cloudy pillar of inspiration have each one echoes and answers in her own expecting natureIts mystic imagery are so many talismans and gems inscribed with unknown hieroglyphics; she folds them in her bosom, and expects to read them when she passes beyond the veil At this time in our story, the whole StClare establishment is, for the time being, removed to their villa on Lake PontchartrainThe heats of summer had driven all who were able to leave the sultry and unhealthy city, to seek the shores of the lake, and its cool sea-breezesClare?s villa was an East Indian cottage, surrounded by light verandahs of bamboo-work, and opening on all sides into gardens and pleasure-groundsThe common sitting-room opened on to a large garden, fragrant with every picturesque plant and flower of the tropics, where winding paths ran down to the very shores of the lake, whose silvery sheet of water lay there, rising and falling in the sunbeams,?a picture never for an hour the same, yet every hour more beautiful It is now one of those intensely golden sunsets which kindles the whole horizon into one blaze of glory, and makes the water another shop sky

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Feb. 1, 2010 - After a pause of a moment, he proceeded, in his...

After a pause of a moment, he proceeded, in his stately way, to the door, drew back the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy chains, and began to draw it open To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlockedSuspiciously, I looked all round, but could see no key of any kind As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without grew louder and angrierTheir red jaws, with champing teeth, and their blunt-clawed feet as they leaped, came in through the opening doorI knew than that to struggle at the moment against the Count was uselessWith such allies as these at his command, I could do nothing But still the door continued slowly to open, and only the Count's body stood in the gapSuddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doomI was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigationThere was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as the last chance I cried out, "Shut the door! I shall wait till morning And I covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment With one sweep of his powerful arm, the Count threw the door shut, and the great bolts clanged and echoed through the hall as they shot back into their places In silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or two I went to my own roomThe last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his hand to me, with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a whispering at my doorI went to it softly and listenedUnless my ears deceived me, I heard the voice of the Count "Back! Back to your own place! Your time is not yet comeWait! Have patience! Tonight is mineTomorrow night is yours!" There was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open the door, and saw without the three terrible women licking their lipsAs I appeared, they all joined in a horrible laugh, and ran away I came back to my room and threw myself on my kneesIt is then so near the end? Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Lord, help me, and those to whom I am dear! 30 June-These may be the last words I ever write in this diaryI slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me ready At last I felt that subtle change in the air, and knew that the morning had comeThen came the welcome cockcrow, and I felt that I was safeWith a glad heart, I opened the door and ran down the hallI had seen that the door was unlocked, and now escape was before meWith hands that trembled with eagerness, I unhooked the chains and threw back the massive bolts But the door would not moveI pulled and pulled at the door, and shook it till, massive as it was, it rattled in its casementI could see the bolt shotIt had been locked after I left the Count Then a wild desire took me to obtain the key at any risk, and I determined then and there to scale the wall again, and gain the Count's roomHe might kill me, but death now seemed the happier choice of evilsWithout a pause I rushed up to the east window, and scrambled down the wall, as before, into the Count's roomIt was empty, but that was as I expectedI could not see a key anywhere, but the heap of gold shop remained

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Jan. 31, 2010 - Hello, my account friends

Welcome to my first blog

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Jan. 31, 2010 - She looks with agony in the face of the man who...

She looks with agony in the face of the man who has bought her,?a respectable middle-aged man, of benevolent countenance ?O, Mas?r, please do buy my daughter!? ?I?d like to, but I?m afraid I can?t afford it!? said the gentleman, looking, with painful interest, as the young girl mounted the block, and looked around her with a frightened and timid glance The blood flushes painfully in her otherwise colorless cheek, her eye has a feverish fire, and her mother groans to see that she looks more beautiful than she ever saw her beforeThe auctioneer sees his advantage, and expatiates volubly in mingled French and English, and bids rise in rapid succession ?I?ll do anything in reason,? said the benevolent-looking gentleman, pressing in and joining with the bidsIn a few moments they have run beyond his purseHe is silent; the auctioneer grows warmer; but bids gradually drop offIt lies now between an aristocratic old citizen and our bullet-headed acquaintanceThe citizen bids for a few turns, contemptuously measuring his opponent; but the bullet-head has the advantage over him, both in obstinacy and concealed length of purse, and the controversy lasts but a moment; the hammer falls,?he has got the girl, body and soul, unless God help her! Her master is MrLegree, who owns a cotton plantation on the Red riverShe is pushed along into the same lot with Tom and two other men, and goes off, weeping as she goes The benevolent gentleman is sorry; but, then, the thing happens every day! One sees girls and mothers crying, at these sales, always! it can?t be helped,

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Jan. 31, 2010 - ?Where was you raised?? he added, briefly, to...

?Where was you raised?? he added, briefly, to these investigations ?In Kintuck, Mas?r,? said Tom, looking about, as if for deliverance ?What have you done?? ?Had care of Mas?r?s farm,? said Tom ?Likely story!? said the other, shortly, as he passed onHe paused a moment before Dolph; then spitting a discharge of tobacco-juice on his well-blacked boots, and giving a contemptuous umph, he walked onAgain he stopped before Susan and EmmelineHe put out his heavy, dirty hand, and drew the girl towards him; passed it over her neck and bust, felt her arms, looked at her teeth, and then pushed her back against her mother, whose patient face showed the suffering she had been going through at every motion of the hideous stranger The girl was frightened, and began to cry ?Stop that, you minx!? said the salesman; ?no whimpering here,?the sale is going to begin And accordingly the sale begun Adolph was knocked off, at a good sum, to the young gentlemen who had previously stated his intention of buying him; and the other servants of the StClare lot went to various bidders ?Now, up with you, boy! d?ye hear?? said the auctioneer to Tom Tom stepped upon the block, gave a few anxious looks round; all seemed mingled in a common, indistinct noise,?the clatter of the salesman crying off his qualifications in French and English, the quick fire of French and English bids; and almost in a moment came the final thump of the hammer, and the clear ring on the last syllable of the word ?dollars,? as the auctioneer announced his price, and Tom was made overHe had a master! He was pushed from the block;?the short, bullet-headed man seizing him roughly by the shoulder, pushed him to one side, saying, in a harsh voice, ?Stand there, you!? Tom hardly realized anything; but still the bidding went on,?ratting, clattering, now French, now EnglishDown goes the hammer again,?Susan is sold! She goes down from the block, stops, looks wistfully back,?her daughter stretches her hands towards herShe looks with agony in the face of the man who has bought her,?a respectable middle-aged man, of benevolent countenance ?O, Mas?r, please do buy my daughter!? ?I?d like to, but I?m afraid I can?t afford it!? said the gentleman, looking, with painful interest, as the young girl mounted the block, and looked around her with a frightened and timid glance The blood flushes painfully in her otherwise colorless cheek, her eye has a feverish fire, and her mother groans to see that she looks more beautiful than she ever saw her beforeThe auctioneer sees his advantage, and expatiates volubly in mingled French and English, and bids rise in rapid succession ?I?ll do anything in reason,? said the benevolent-looking gentleman, pressing in and joining with the bidsIn a few moments they have run beyond his purseHe is silent; the auctioneer grows warmer; but bids gradually drop offIt lies now between an aristocratic old citizen and our bullet-headed acquaintanceThe citizen bids for a few turns, contemptuously measuring his opponent; but the bullet-head has the advantage over him, both in obstinacy and concealed length of purse, and the controversy lasts but a moment; the hammer falls,?he has got the girl, body and soul, unless God help her! Her master is MrLegree, who owns a cotton plantation on the Red riverShe is pushed along into the same lot with Tom and two other men, and goes off, weeping as she goes The benevolent gentleman is sorry; but, then, the thing happens every day! One sees girls and mothers crying, at these sales, always! it can?t be helped,

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Jan. 27, 2010 - Sweden burns rabbits for Fuel

The Swedes are enjoying the warmth, but the rabbits don’t. Burning bunny is an annual practice in Stockholm that is used to combat rabbit overpopulation in the city's extensive network of parks. But this is the first time the animals have ever been used as a form of heating.

According to Leo Virta, chief executive of Konvex, the company handling the bunny-burning, "The bodies contain a lot of fat, and fat has exactly the same energy content as normal heating oil." Supporters said that using them for fuel was both economical and environmentally friendly, while Swedish animal-rights activists were not convinced.

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