The Works of Rudyard Kipling: Under the deodars. The phantom rickshaw. Wee Willie Winkie

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Doubleday & McClure, 1899
 

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Page 204 - And only the Master shall praise us. and only the Master shall blame: And no one shall work for money. and no one shall work for fame. But each for the joy of the working. and each. in his separate star. Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things as They Are!
Page 169 - What did the Colonel's Lady think? Nobody never knew. Somebody asked the Sergeant's wife, An' she told 'em true! When you get to a man in the case, They're like as a row of pins — For the Colonel's Lady an' Judy O'Grady Are sisters under their skins!
Page 21 - Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners, Plucking at their harps, and they plucked unhandily : ' Our thumbs are rough and tarred, And the tune is something hard — May we lift a Deepsea Chantey such as seamen use at sea?
Page 5 - We have fed our sea for a thousand years — * And she calls us, still unfed, - Though there's never a wave of all her waves — But marks our English dead: *•" We have strawed our best to the weed's unrest , — To the shark and the sheering gull. -" If blood be the price of admiralty, Lord God, we ha...
Page 97 - Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again ! Buy my English posies! — You that will not turn, Buy my hot-wood clematis, Buy a frond o...
Page 9 - RANGOON Hail, Mother! Do they call me rich in trade? Little care I, but hear the shorn priest drone, And watch my silk-clad lovers, man by maid, Laugh 'neath my Shwe Dagon.
Page 75 - And the tunes that mean so much to you alone — Common tunes that make you choke and blow your nose, Vulgar tunes that bring the laugh that brings the groan — I can rip your very heartstrings out with those...
Page 39 - That minds me of our Viscount loon - Sir Kenneth's kin - the chap Wi' Russia leather tennis-shoon an' spar-decked yachtin'-cap. I showed him round last week, o'er all - an' at the last says he: 'Mister McAndrew, don't you think steam spoils romance at sea?
Page 190 - An' now the hugly bullets come peckin' through the dust, An' no one wants to face 'em, but every beggar must; So, like a man in irons which isn't glad to go, They moves 'em off by companies uncommon stiff an' slow. Of all 'is five years' schoolin' they don't remember much Excep' the not retreatin', the step an' keepin' touch. It looks like teachin' wasted when they duck an' spread an' 'op, But if 'e 'adn't learned 'em they'd be all about the shop!
Page 41 - Mornin' Stars for joy that they are made; While, out o' touch o' vanity, the sweatin' thrust-block says: "Not unto us the praise, or man — not unto us the praise!" Now, a' together, hear them lift their lesson — theirs an' mine: "Law, Orrder, Duty an' Restraint, Obedience, Discipline!" Mill, forge an' try-pit taught them that when roarin' they arose, An' whiles I wonder if a soul was gied them wi

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