Today's Stichomancy for Bruce Willis

Which madly hurries her she knows not whither: 904 This way she runs, and now she will no further, But back retires to rate the boar for murther.

A thousand spleens bear her a thousand ways, She treads the path that she untreads again; 908 Her more than haste is mated with delays, Like the proceedings of a drunken brain, Full of respects, yet nought at all respecting, In hand with all things, nought at all effecting.

Here kennel'd in a brake she finds a hound, 9l3 And asks the weary caitiff for his master,

story of George Washington and the cherry-tree has done more harm, and in a shorter space of time, than any other moral tale in the whole of literature.'

CYRIL. My dear boy!

VIVIAN. I assure you it is the case, and the amusing part of the whole thing is that the story of the cherry-tree is an absolute myth. However, you must not think that I am too despondent about the artistic future either of America or of our own country. Listen to this:-

'That some change will take place before this century has drawn to its close we have no doubt whatsoever. Bored by the tedious and

"Where's Dunsey, then? What do you stand talking there for? Go and fetch Dunsey, as I tell you, and let him give account of what he wanted the money for, and what he's done with it. He shall repent it. I'll turn him out. I said I would, and I'll do it. He shan't brave me. Go and fetch him."

"Dunsey isn't come back, sir."

"What! did he break his own neck, then?" said the Squire, with some disgust at the idea that, in that case, he could not fulfil his threat.

"No, he wasn't hurt, I believe, for the horse was found dead, and Dunsey must have walked off. I daresay we shall see him again

Silas Marner