Arthur Doyle
Arthur Doyle
Arthur Doylewas an American jazz saxophonist, flutist, zanzithophonist and vocalist...
great hold landlady learned looked men noses shook small truck
The landlady looked at him in a motherly way and shook her head. "You have had no great truck with the world," she said, "or you would have learned that it is the small men and not the great who hold their noses in the air.
admiration antagonist confess crimes dear forced horror last lost met months three
You know my powers, my dear Watson, and yet at the end of three months I was forced to confess that I had at last met an antagonist who was my intellectual equal. My horror at his crimes was lost in my admiration at his skill.
A long shot, Watson, a very long shot!
air closed far lived london record survey sweeter wholly
I think that I may go so far as to say, Watson, that I have not lived wholly in vain, he remarked. "If my record were closed to-night I could still survey it with equanimity. The air of London is the sweeter for my presence.
across bars circular clouds crowded dense dreary eerie endless faces feeble fog gloom great haggard human lay light low muddy narrow radiance sadly september seven shifting strand threw yellow
It was a September evening, and not yet seven o'clock, but the day had been a dreary one, and a dense drizzly fog lay low upon the great city. Mud-colored clouds drooped sadly over the muddy streets. Down the Strand the lamps were but misty splotches of diffused light which threw a feeble circular glimmer upon the slimy pavement. The yellow glare from the shop-windows streamed out into the steamy, vaporous air, and threw a murky, shifting radiance across the crowded thoroughfare. There was, to my mind, something eerie and ghost-like in the endless procession of faces which flitted across these narrow bars of light,--sad faces and glad, haggard and merry. Like all human kind, they flitted from the gloom into the light, and so back into the gloom once more.
again among dull further insects itself lost save silence sweet
Here and there a tawny brook prattled out from among the underwood and lost itself again in the ferns and brambles upon the further side. Save the dull piping of insects and the sough of the leaves, there was silence everywhere--the sweet restful silence of nature.