[…] I rigged up a kind of mannikin with old coats and a cushion—something to cast a shadow on the blind. All you fellows were used to seeing my shadow there in the small hours—I counted on that, and knew you’d take any vague outline as mine.
[T]his ſeal'd vial, being broken under water, ſuck'd in a conſiderable quantity of it, whether, becauſe of ſome little rarefaction of the Air included in the ſealing, or becauſe of the infrigidation of that Air by the ſnow, or for both theſe Reaſons, or any other, I ſhall not Now diſpute.
Even fashions, otherwise convenient, as the trousers that have so long taken place of smallclothes, often perhaps owe their continuance to some general defect . . .
Before him lay extended the brown body of a donkey, whose broken lariot and fixed eye told the tale. I thought for a moment that its hoof was moving; but before a word had passed, all was still.[…] / “Messieurs, it was not my fault. I told them at Weggis the animal was too small; but they forced him on me, saying that he was a convenient size. My legs touched ground. They said I should escape a fall. The donkey was hungry and emulous. I had no guide to restrain him; but I did not urge him. He weakened as he warmed. He drank of the cold rills. He brayed aloud. He passed the châlet with a snort;—he snorted out his breath. Ah, Messieurs! it is all over with him and me. How shall I get down to-morrow with a gout and no donkey? This air is sharpening it into rheumatism,” swore he with a German oath, as, resting on one leg, he / “Steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, / And bitterly thought of the morrow.” / “Rank equicide!” growled the Scot. “Puir mewel!” / By this time, the entire procession was gathered round the deceased.
