Word: wretched
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Sneezing Titmarsh. It was in the fifth of his Christmas Books, which he illustrated himself, that Thackeray came closest to realizing his earlier ambition to draw. ("What, you, too, Mr. Titmarsh? you sneering wretch. . .?") His last and most famous Christmas book-The Rose and the Ring-was written around some sketches he had drawn to amuse his daughters. He continued his fairy tale to entertain a neighbor's sick child. "It was," wrote the little girl, "a black day when the dear giant did not come. The people in The Rose and the Ring were real people...
Excuses are dealt with just as arbitrarily. If the wretch attempts to explain that he never received the notice, an official looks at the file; and if a duplicate is found, the student is considered to have received his copy, all protests to the contrary. Lehman Hall must send accounts to 15,000 men, and of these only 400, or three percent, ever receive the drastic second notice. Yet there is no attempt to cover possible margins of error by sending a simple warning before slapping on a fine...
...beautiful is my beloved ..."), marked the place with a rose petal, then pushed Marie out of bed to give thanks that the species had been created male and female. When Marie complained that the bridal party had given her a fierce hangover, Mr. Milton lost patience. "Phlegmatic and ungrateful wretch!" he barked. "What a froward, drivelling flibbergib have I taken to my bosom!" Then he booted her out of bed again, turned over and read the Greek classics for the rest of the night...
Slim as it is, the volume appears padded. The lyrics, excepting an occasional piece like "Come In" or "A Young Wretch," seem minor, and occasionally trite. Emphasizing the short line and two-syllable rhyme, poems like "A Considerable Speck" are characterized by occasional flashes of epigrammatic brilliance which, though causing a quick chortle, tend to destroy poetic unity and completeness. In extended form these epigrams frequently become rapid-fire social commentary, and here Frost seems beyond his depth. Knowing the farms and people of New England, he is lost when he strays into the maze of an international industrial society...
...Wilson one get rid of this wretch," Hooey shouted, annoyed. "Of course we'll take Dartmouth into Camp, Antaya knot in their scalp lochs. I Kast my vote for Jawn...