Word: childrene
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...children are growing up to be more supercilious than their father. They are still more cold and haughty. They smile at the people as they pass by to the church and say 'How foolish! We are the only wise ones of the earth.' They have no regard for any but the few that are like them, and they are few indeed...
...great university, which we are striving to build up. The compensation should be such as to invite men of scholarly tastes and enthusiasm who long to become teachers of men to adopt that profession, without feeling that, by adopting this choice, they are depriving their wives and children of the social and educational privileges of the families of law-years or physicians, or of average merchants. The calling of a teacher is much more appreciated than it was fifty years ago, but there is still a selfish disregard of their rightful claims, because of their helplessness, on the part...
...with myself. I had no body. I call this circumstance a curious one, but this is rather an after thought; at that time it did not seem at all peculiar. I had all my usual perceptions about me. I saw everything that was in the room, heard what the children were saying, felt the warmth of the fire. What was the need of a body? True I could not move; but, in such pleasant surroundings, I was well content to stay where I was. So, in fact, it was not until I thought of exercising the American prerogative, and putting...
...Then it left the window. Although I could not see it I was exquisitely conscious of what it was doing. It passed around by the side of the house, and gained an entrance. Then I heard it come creeping down the hall. It reached the room where the children and I were. I in the meantime, lay helpless. I struggled to move, but was impotent...
...next moment my body entered through the open door. It advanced toward the children, meaning as I saw to kill them. And it did kill them while I stood by in a gony. I shall not attempt to describe the murder, for the details of it are confused with recollections of what I had just been reading in De Quincey. What I remember most is my own face glancing at me, as the murder went on, with looks of mockery and hate. Then the room suddenly filled with people. I recollect the chill of fear I felt as the instinct...