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142 Hapa, not having any contents, as grain which does not fill. Barren, sterile.

Hapa éman, partly empty as grain; only so far empty as to be sorry to throw it away. Eman or héman, to have a love for. See Voce.

Hapĕuk, foisty, frouzy, having a bad smell, fetid. Figuratively no go! you w'ont get it! Hapĕuk amat pakéan sia, your clothes are very frouzy. Ari di pénta, hapĕuk, and when I asked for it, it was no go- (he would not give it.)

Haphap, a kind of flying lizard, Draco volans, 5 or 6 inches long including tail- otherwise also called Orai Pĕpéték. It appears to be known in Malay by the name Kubin. Marsden Page 272.

Hapit, name of a part of the native hand loom. The Hapit is the stick in front of the weaver, round which is rolled the cloth as it is woven.

Hapit, the 11th Mohammedan month of the year, otherwise called Dzul Kahida or Dul Kahidah.

Hapur, a trifling whitish defect which makes its appearance on the skin of natives, called in Malay Pano. Not lampang which see also. Supak in Malay. Marsden P. 192.

Haraghag, a variety of wild Pandan growing among the mountains, the leaves of which are used for tying up Java sugar.

Harak, greedy, particularly about eatables. Having more than one can eat and still unwilling to give to any one else. Greedy like the dog in the manger.

Haraka, stuff to eat or guttle, as fruit, or odds and ends of vegetables. (Skr. Ahára, food.)

Haralog, collapsed, fallen together; shrunk into a smaller compass.

Haram, arabic, unlawful, forbidden, interdicted; accursed; sacred, in the sense of its not being allowed to meddle with it. (حَرَامْ, interdicted.)

Haram jadah, arabic, literally accursed child, a bastard. This word is of very frequent occurrence, and means scoundrel, vagabond. (See the preceding; jâdah is the Persian zâdah, child.)

Haramai, a sort of hemp made from the stem of a plant of the nettle kind, Urtica Diversifolia. Fishing nets are made of Haramai. Called in Malay Ramé.

Harang, charcoal. Kayu harang, ebony, thus literally charcoal wood. The Ebony of Madagascar and of the Isle of France is produced by the Diospyrus Ebenum.

Harangasu, grime, lamp black; the black stuff which sets itself on the bottom of cooking pots.

Hararéwa, the plural of éwa, which see. Batur na hararéwa ka mandor, the people have a great aversion to the Mandor.

Harasas, a fine variety of Pandanus, often used for covering Dudukuis, or roughly made native hats.

Harcha, Idols, objects of pagan worship. Archa, C. 47 worship, honor, salutation. Archana, C. 47 worship, homage paid to the gods. The Badui people in South


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Rh call the rude stones which they worship, or which are set up in their places of worship or offering- Harcha. (Archâ, Skr., means also an image.)

Haréan, of the same age or standing. Haréan kula gěus pararaih, the people of my standing are all dead.

Harěmis, a small bivalve shell fish, with yellow shell. It is found in the rivers where sand accumulates: it is a Cyrena.

Harěn, full of hope, in good expectation. Eagerly expecting.

Harěnai, said of paddy advancing towards ripeness; turning yellow.

Harénang, name of a bushy shrub, with flower bunches terminal to the branches.

Haréndong, a small shrub growing plentifully in open cleared country, and generally well set with pink flowers. Melastoma Malabathricum. It grows a small black berry which children are fond of eating, and which stains the mouth black, hence the Greek name melas, black, stoma, the mouth. Called by the Malays Si Kaduduk.

Haréno, a wood growing in jungle, much used for carrying sticks. It is called Daruwak near Batavia. Grewia Paniculata.

Harěudang, close and warm, suffocatingly warm, not a breath of air. Figuratively-provoking restrained.

Harěu-ěus, a kind of wild raspberry, common not only in Java but throughout the Archipelago. Eubus Moluccanus, and Kubus Sundaicus.

Harěuga, a weed frequent among the mountains, and growing with great obstinacy. It has a white flower which is succeeded by numerous short black needles of seeds, which adhere to the trousers of a person passing through amongst them. It is called in the West Indies and Ceylon- Spanish needles.

Harěup, front, in front, foremost. Di harěup, in front. Harěupan, to be in front of anything, to face. (Jav. Harěp, Haděp. Mal. Hâdap.)

Harěup, to expect, to wish for, to long for, to desire. Di harěup datang his arrival was expected. Di harěup-harěup, to be in expectation of; to look out for earnestly. (Jav. Harěp, it seems to have connexion with the preceding word.)

Harga, price, value. Argha, C. 47. price, cost, value.

Hari is a designation of some sort of deity or supernatural person, and as such is still in use among the Badui. Hari batang see Batang. Hari, C. 787 from hara to take. A name of Krishna or Vishnu; Yama; Indra. (Hari as adjective moans green; tawny.)

Hari raya, a festive day, a day kept as a holiday. Properly Malay but still very frequently heard.

Hariang, a Begonia, a shrubby herb, the leaves and stem of which are sometimes used as an acid in cooking when Honjé fails.

Hariang, a name used in Jampes to designate some supernatural personage. It is probably derived from Hari, vide supra and Hyang; divinity. The Divinity Krishna,

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 They replied that he had done what the emperor, his lord, had commanded him; and they, what they ought to do by the instructions from the king, their lord. They asked him to give up the royal standard of Castile, and he answered that he could not do so, neither could he defend it, since he was in their power. Upon which they drew up some documents before a notary; and when they discharged the cargo of the ship, he asked the Portuguese to give him a certificate of what was in it, for him to render an account to His Majesty; and they replied that, if he asked for this often, they would give it him on a yard arm. In the fortress we found Juan de Campos, Diego Arias, and Alonzo, the Genoese, sick, who were three of those who had remained in Tidore with the goods of His Majesty. They said that the Portuguese had knocked down the factory-house and taken the cloves and receipts for cloves which were paid for, and all the rigging and fittings of the ships; Luis del Molino had fled, and Gonzalo Gomez called him to come to the fortress under safe conduct, but when in it they put him in irons; Master Pedro had died.

When the ship was in Tidore, the pilot, Juan Lopes Carvalho, died on the 14th February, 1522; and, between sailing thence and anchoring at Benaconora, there died in August, September, and October, thirty-one individuals, without counting three who ran away in the isle of Mao of the Ladrones.

The twenty-one Castilians of the ship and factory remained about four months as prisoners in Terrenate, until, at the end of February 1523, Captain Antonio de Brito gave them a passage to India, sending them to the island of Banda, which was a hundred leagues off, excepting the carpenter Antonio, and the caulker Antonio Basazaval, whom he said that he required. The clerk of the factory, Juan de Campos, and three other Castilians, went in a junk, of which nothing was known nor what became of those


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. The Castilians remained in Banda about four months; from thence they were conducted to Java, and coasting it they arrived at a city named Agrazue. Agrazue was a town of thirty thousand inhabitants, Mussulmans, of great trade, to which porcelain, silks, and other Chinese goods were brought from Borneo and other parts.

From Agrazue they went to Malacca, two hundred leagues distant, where Jorge de Albuquerque was captain.

They were about five months at Malacca. Four Castilians died there at the end of November 1524, The ship-boy, Anton Moreno, remained there, who was, they said, the slave of a sister of Jorge de Albuquerque, and the rest went on to India. They were twenty-five days in reaching Ceylon, which was three hundred leagues, and they went a hundred leagues more to Cochin. The clerk, Bartolomé Sanchez, and two others, went in a junk, of which nothing more was heard. In Cochin they found that the ships for Portugal had sailed a short time before their arrival, and they had to wait a year for the passage of the spice ships.

After they had been ten months in Cochin, without obtaining leave to embark, the seaman, Leon Pancaldo, and Bautista Poncero, master of the ship Trinity, fled secretly in the ship ''Sta. Catallna'', which left them in Mozambique. There they were arrested and put on board the ship of Diego de Melo to be taken to the Governor of India, but contrary winds did not permit her departure; and, having been allowed to go ashore, Bautista Poncero died, and Leon Pancaldo hid himself in the ship of Francisco Pereira, which was going to Portugal. He remained hid till they got a hundred leagues from Mozambique, When they arrived at Lisbon they put him in prison, from which the king commanded him to be set free.

At this time, D. Vasco da Gama arrived in India as Viceroy, and the Castilians begged for leave to embark in the ships which were going to Portugal, but he would not give


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 it. The Viceroy died in twenty days, and they elected in his stead D. Enrique de Meneses governor of Goa, who came to Cochin. Two Castilians died there, and those that remained had to wait for another year.

Gonzalo Gomez had done homage and could not get away until after constant recourse and petitions to the governor, D. Enrique de Meneses, who gave him leave, as also to the seaman, Gines de Mafra, and to Master Hans, a bombardier, when it was known there that the King of Portugal was married to Da. Catalina, sister of His Majesty the Emperor, These three individuals left Cochin in the Portuguese ships, and when they arrived at Lisbon they put them in the Limoneiro or public prison, where Master Hans died. Gonzalo Gomez and Gines de Mafra remained there about seven months, until they were set free by letters from His Majesty; but Gonzalo Gomez was set free twenty-seven days before Gines, whom they supposed to be a pilot, having found some log-books in his box and two other (books), which Andres de San Martin, pilot of His Majesty, had made, which books and other writings they took, and would not return to him.

From their departure from Terrenate, in the Moluccas, to Lisbon, inclusively, there died eight individuals. What became of seven was unknown; two remained in the Moluccas; one in Malacca; and three reached Spain, besides the licentiate and priest, Morales.

Gaspar Correa says (tome iii, p. 109):—

"In this year 1527, one Sebastian Gabato, a Basque, and a great pilot, sailed from Seville as captain-major of two ships and a caravel, who was ordered by the Viceroy of the Antilles to go and take in cargo at Maluco, and recover


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IV. Page, Line.

344, 38 see Petah — Bĕtah.

345, 32 Pang'-yogya-an Panga'yogya-an.

348, 24 Shorting up — Shooting.

» 89 Pangsar — Pangsor.

349, 12 His not in use — It is not.

351, 7 fellow — follow.

352, 19 Ashna — (Eshna.

353, 6, 7 Phu — Bhu.

354, 2 Paraman — Paranan.

358, No. 69 smut Lutung — Imut Lutung.

» No. 72 Ayiruan — Nyiruan.

359, No. 111 Naga wuling — Naga wulung.

362, 16 offices — affixes.

» 29 a know ledged — acknowledged.

363, 20 3709 — 370.9.

365, 24 with with — with-only once.

366, 11 year when — omit year.

368, 25 Pĕnta — Pénta.

369, 12 dried an — dried and.

371, 15 into a small — into small.

372, 21 the bril has burst — the boil.

374, 30 di lumber — di lumbur.

377, 35 Ostrus — (Estrus.

378, 8 in het — in the.

381, 22 Franschman — Fransman.

382, 34 the globural — globular.

384, 8 Karuan, it is — Karuan, if it is.

385, 26 globium — glabrum.

388, 18 between Eastern and Purwana, insert a full stop.

389, 24 Colurnix — Coturnix.

390, 18 Rarang — Parang.

391, Ragĕt — Ragĕm.

» 17 Rachĕuk — Bahĕuk.

» 36 Kélu — Kétu.

392, 4 Pai — Rai.

395, 16 a bridle; bit — a bridle-bit.

» 34 Rochong — Pochong.

396, 11 deĕui — dĕui.

397, 8 Kadujo — Kadiyo.

398, 17 Vinena — Viverra.

399, 31 He figured — He is figured.

400, 28 In some place — places.

401, 13 Régangen — Régang'an.

402, 39 Rep — Rĕp.

Page, Line.

403, 34 Di ayakan — di ajakan.

404, 1 hanging or grass — on grass.

408, 16 European's — Europeans.

410, 4 Rungkapan — Rungkupan.

» 16 nadi rupa — na to rupa.

413, 16 the great river — "the Great River."

» 27 Satija — Satya.

414, 37 insertagain Sadur, to lay —the dust, when under cover, as in a verandah, by pouring water on the ground and mixing up with it fresh buffaloe dung, so as to make a smooth compact surface when dry.

416, 1 Sunda is watu — Sunda watu.

417, 39 to any forevidence — to any one forevidence.

418, 4 the whole total — the whole, total.

» 28 long be in — long been in.

» 33 a considerable ommision in the text is here made, as in the M. S. there followed Polynesian. "Though Salaka sounds to the ear Sanscritic, it does not occur in this aenae in Clough's Dictionary, It may, however, be derived from Sa, with, by means of — and Laka, C. 602, a mark, a sign. As if the Hindus had used it as a Token in trading with the Islanders, and therefore gaveit a name implying rather its use, than the real Sanscrit word for silver."

421, 31 Séwei — Séwu.

422, 6 Sambĕrilen — Sambĕrilén. 425, 1 for feet — four feet. » 8 our Sanggapan no doubt means — where the water is caught on coming out of the water course. 426, 18 in the Sal — is the Sal. » 20 Chi Chirian — Chidurian.

427, 1 Sanin èn — Sanintĕn.

» 40 an ought — and ought

429, 16 dilemna — dilemma.

» 23 Saranya — Sarauja.

430, 2 taluĕs — talëus.

» 7 yong — young,

» 9 woman — women,

431, 21 lothes — clothes.

» 23 cut of short — cut off.

432, 12 Pĕku — Puku.

» 19, 20 Sa-pĕku — Sa-puku.


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 the property of the Castilians, which he might find belonging to the ship of the fleet of Fernan de Magalhāes which put in in distress; and if he found any things in the possession of the Portuguese, he was to ask for them and require them from the captains on behalf of the emperor, with all urbanity: and if they did not choose to give them up, he was to ask for documents, with protests, which he was to bring to the emperor for him to do in the matter what might be for his service. This fleet sailed from Seville, and never more was any news heard of what became of it, nor what end it had. This only was known, that this fleet had thus sailed this year, through other Castilians, who later arrived at Maluco in another fleet, as I will relate further on in its place."

[Correa relates, in his Tom., cap. xiv, that Charles V sent a fleet of five ships in 1527 to Maluco under Fray Garcia de Loaysa, that only one ship under Captain Martim Inhigo reached Maluco: he then describes the disputes and skirmishes between the Castilians and Portuguese.]


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Rh hundred roubles she would come to grief altogether. With God's help, I'll get out of this hobble myself."

So he looked carefully about and devised every possible method of escaping. He would go about the aul whistling, or he would sit down here and there and manufacture various sorts of little things, or model a puppet out of clay, or weave baskets from twigs. For Zhilin was a master at all sorts of handiwork.

Once he modelled a puppet with a nose, arms, and legs in a Tatar shirt, and put this puppet on the roof of the outhouse.

Presently the Tatar women came out to draw water. Dinka, the daughter of the house, saw the puppet and called the Tatar women to look at it. They put down their kuvshini, looked at is long and laughed aloud. Zhilin took up the puppet on the roof, went into the out houses, and watched to see what would happen.

Dina then came running up, glanced all around, seized the puppet, and ran away with it.

Next morning a dawn he saw Dina across the threshold with the puppet. She had already adorned the puppet with all sorts of parti-coloured rags, and was rocking it as if it were a child, singing a lullaby of her own invention. Then the old woman came out and scolded her, snatched away the puppet, smashed it, and sent Dina off to work somewhere.

Then Zhilin made another and even better puppet and gave it to Dina. Presently Dina came again bringing with her a little pitcher which she put on

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 Pentacrinites Briareus, from the Lias at Lyme Regis, Dorset, in the collection of Professor Sedgwick.


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 FOSSIL FRUIT OF PODOCARYA FROM THE INFERIOR OOLITE NEAR CHARMOUTH DORSET.


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12 SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

Washington, D. C., Oct 2 1916 Attention of Secretary Walcott.

The correspondent, R. H. Goddard of the Dept. of Physics Clark College Worcester Mass. has developed theoretically and in fact experimentally, a method applicable to raise meteorological apparatus to immense heights, far beyond those reached by present methods. Thus the highest free balloon flight so far is about 25 miles. Goddard claims the possibility of reaching several hundred miles altitude!

He proposes to do this


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13 SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

Washington, D. C., ..... 191 by firing successive charges of smokeless powder in a special steel apparatus, who recoil carries it up and up till the charges are all fired. The apparatus is to be protected in descent by a small parachute.

I consider the method probably sound. Indeed I discussed it with Mr. Hale on Mount Wilson about 5 years ago.

Goddard's devices are protected by several patents.

He says the naval board


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14 SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

Washington, D. C., ..... 191 through Webster are trying to get it. But he disires that its use shall also be open to meteorology as well as war.

This will introduce you to his requests made on page 7 of his letter.

I believe there are several meteorological problems of great interest which might be solved by aid of the device, as:

 * 1) What is the composition of the highest atmosphere.
 * 2) How does temperature fall are great altitudes?


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15 SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

Washington, D. C., ..... 191 I presume such meteorological applications would involve a very considerable expensive (several thousand dollars) beyond the cost of Goddard's device, and the cost of that itself may will be one or several thousand dollars.

Yours truly

C. G. Abbot


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Goddard, Robert H. 13

December 16, 1916.

Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D. C.

Dear sir;

I am sending a copy of a patent just issued, which it might be well to put with the other copies that I sent with the manuscript.

This patent was taken out chiefly with the idea of covering a magazine of the cartridge-belt type; and is of importance in that it describes a device for making the loading of the cartridge perfectly positive.

Very truly yours,

Robert H. Goddard


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 1,206,837.

Witness G. F. Wessex


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33 # 1,206,837

Movable-changer-and-fixed-breach-block type of reloading mechanism.

Magazine of the cartridge-belt type.

In this patent, attention is called to the mechanism (parts 50..54, Figs. 2, 3, 16) by which the operation of loading the cartridge is made absolutely positive.

This device can also be applied to the mechanisms described in the previous patents.


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 EAST HALL.


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Page:Fasti ecclesiae Anglicanae Volume 3.djvu/87

 PREBENDARIES. 81

Ralph Battell, A.M., installed 22nd — t68o. Ob.

20th March 17 12-13. William Bramston, S.T.P., nominated 20th April,

and installed 8th June 1713. Bernard Wilsox, M.A., installed 13th Oct. 1734, on

the death of AVilliam Bramston. James Stillingfleet, M.A., collated 3rd June 1772,

on the death of Bernard Wilson. Ob. 6th July 1817. Richard Bagot, appointed i6th July 1817, vice James

Stillingfleet deceased. Charles Richard Sumner, appointed nth March

1822, vice Richard Bagot. Thomas Gaisford, M.A., appointed i8th June, and

collated 2nd Aug. 1825. Thomas Singleton, M.A,, appointed 19th Jan., and

collated 2 1st Feb. 1 8 29. Ob. j 3th Mar. i842,8etat. 58^

THIRD STALL.

Richard Ever, B.D., by foundation charter 24th Jan, 1541-2.

Ralph Cookley, installed 4th Sept. 1558.

Thomas Arden, installed 30th Nov. 1558.

Libbeus Byard, installed i6th June 1560.

John Bullingham, installed 20th Oct. 1570. He be- came bishop of Gloucester in 158 1.

Godfrey Goldsborougii, installed ist Sept. 1581. He became bishop of Gloucester, but held this stall in commendam.

William Barksdale, A.M., installed 29th May 1604. Ob. 25th Feb. 1628-9.

Samuel or Stephen Bhoughton, A.M., installed in March 1628-9.

Barnabas Olky, A.M., presented 3rd Aug. 1660. Ob. 20th Fob, 1685-6.

John Hough, A.M., installed 12th March 1685-6. Ho became bishop of Oxford in 1690.

Joseph Meuill, A.M., nominated ist May, and in- stalled 3 1 St May 1690.

VOL. III. M


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 DEANS.

The priory of Carlisle was surrendered into the hands of king Henry VIII 9th Jan. 1539-40, in the 31st year of his reign, who thereupon, by charter dated 8th May 1542, erected a new society, to consist of a dean and four prebendaries. He likewise rededicated the church, then called the church of the blessed Virgin Mary of Carlisle, and ordered that it should be called the cathedral church of the holy and undivided Trinity of Carlisle, and appointed

Lancelot Salkeld, the last prior of Carlisle, the first dean of this new foundation. He enjoyed it during king Henry's reign, but in the beginning of king Edward VIth's reign he was deprived.

Thomas Smith, afterwards knighted, was appointed to succeed him by king Edward, but on the accession of queen Mary to the throne he was deprived, and Lancelot Salkeld restored in 1553; he was a second time deprived in 1559, and

Sir Thomas Smith restored in 1559. He died 12th Aug. 1577, and was buried in the church of Theydon- Mount in Essex.

John Wooley, A.M., was made dean 11th Oct. 1577: void by the death of sir Thomas Smith. He died at Pyrford in Surrey, in the latter end of Feb. or the beginning of March 1595, and was buried in St. Paul's cathedral.

Chihstopher Perkins, afterwards knighted, succeeded sir John Wooley, and died in Aug. 1622.

Francis White, S.T.P., was presented 14th Sept. and installed 15th Oct. 1622, and in 1626 he was made bishop of this sec.

William Peterson, S.T.P., 7th Dec. 1626: promoted to the deanery of Exon in 1629.


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User talk:06Ivonne

Welcome
Welcome

Hello, 06Ivonne, and welcome to Wikisource! Thank you for. I hope you like the place and decide to stay. Here are a few good links for newcomers:
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I hope you enjoy contributing to Wikisource, the library that is free for everyone to use! In discussions, please "sign" your comments using four tildes ( ~ ); this will automatically produce your IP address (or username if you're logged in) and the date. If you need help, ask me on my talk page, or ask your question here (click  [ edit] ) and place  before your question.

Again, welcome! Beeswaxcandle (talk) 05:53, 30 June 2012 (UTC)

To do list

 * Von, pesertanya banyak banget :p, supaya adil satu persatu harus diladenin dengan "kualitas" yang sama. Kalo ini selesai, elo minta traktir John aja, dosanya dia -_-; kerjaannya cuman ngetawain gue aja.

 * 1) Pertama yang harus dipantau adalah  editannya orang orang baru. Begitu bau namanya orang Indonesia, harus di verifikasi bahwa dia ikutan atau ngga ikutan kompetisi. Hal ini mempermudah.
 * 2) Kebanyakan peserta tidak mencantumkan lokasi. Tinggalkan pesan dihalamannya yang bunyinya seperti ini
 * 3) Misalnya ada peserta nanya teknik kelanjutan yang cukup penting. Yang masih aktif nyunting harus diberitahu juga pertanyaan dan jawabannya di talk page, lebih cepat lebih baik, atau mereka akan membuat kesalahan yang sama berulang kali.
 * 4) Tanggal 5 Juli elo harus mulai ninggalin pesan ke orang orang yang mulai nyunting tanggal 2 Juli, bahwa besok mereka gugur kalau ngga nyunting. Siska.Doviana (talk)

Tanggapan dari Hendrawd
Beberapa catatan hasil dari melihat suntingan kamu: ->Jadi tag nya dihapus aja ya mbak? ato diganti pake template wiki semacam ? Bold dibiarkan ato ganti normal? ->barusan selesai diperbaiki ->yang lain setelah gw teliti masih ada yg kayak gitu, udah diperbaiki lagi, makasih Hendrawd (talk) 13:31, 4 July 2012 (UTC)
 * 1) Headernya jangan dibuat big, dibalikin lagi yah semua.
 * 1) Yang ini belom bisa dikasi poin, masi ada cetak miring dan karakter yang kurang, tolong diperbaiki.
 * 1) Tidak perlu dienter kalau masih bisa nyambung walaupun di teksnya pindah ke bawah.

Tanya lagi nih mbak

Yang https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Page:A_dictionary_of_the_Sunda_language_of_Java.djvu/38 paling bawah sebelah kanan ada angka 3, apa gak dimasukkin?

Terus tentang tag kata, kata mbak Siska.Doviana gak usah dikasih. Nah kalau udah terlanjur dikasih gimana? Apa perlu dihapus lagi? Hendrawd (talk) 16:14, 4 July 2012 (UTC)

Lagi - Lagi tanya :D

Kok di halaman edit, kadang "Proofread tools" yang di sebelah kanan atas kolom edit gak keluar ya? Harus di-refresh dulu browser-nya baru mau keluar. Bahkan kadang harus di refresh beberapa kali baru mau nongol "Proofread tools"-nya. Itu emng kesalahan server atau komputer / browser gw ya?

Terus bagaimana cara edit page yang kayak halaman 355? Yang bawah sendiri jenis - jenis padi kan cuma memakai tanda "„" saja kalau kata sama dengan kata di atasnya. Nah, setelah gw edit dan gw pas in spasinya, ternyata gak berubah di hasilnya. Apa harus pake NBSP?

Yang halaman 385, juga sama, malah pakai simbol "}" besar buat penggolongan, gmn cara editnya?Hendrawd (talk) 06:59, 10 July 2012 (UTC)

Hari ini saya coba buka Index:A_dictionary_of_the_Sunda_language_of_Java.djvu kok susah sekali ya mbak? Terus setelah terbuka pun, saya coba edit halaman juga lama loadingnya. Padahal browsing lancar, edit halaman inipun jg lancar.Hendrawd (talk) 20:30, 11 July 2012 (UTC)

Tanya dari Uyun
Mbak, saya udah menyunting dan menyimpan beberapa kali. Tapi saya lihat di tabel penilaian, yang di halaman pranalanya kok kosong? itu gimana ya mbak? tolong jelasin dong. maaf saya newbie soalnya

Tanggapan dari Syabanisyah
Lokasi di D.I. Yogyakarta

Nama : Muh. Wahyu Sya'bani

Thanks

Tanya dari Yuda
Mbak, ketika mengedit kamus sunda-inggris tersebut bolehkah mengganti beberapa kosakatanya dengan kosakata bahasa sunda yang sudah baku, seperi kata blas, duablas; diganti menjadi belas, dua belas. to menang menjadi teu meunang.

iklan setan
Emang nih, dasar iklan setan, terlalu sukses. Gue udah menyandera yang bertanggung jawab untuk mbantu elo menilai. Biarin aja dese yang bingung ngisi tabelnya. Elo dan gue konsentrasi 1) jawabin orang 2) nggugurin orang 3) nyelamat datangin orang dan memberi tahu kapan mereka gugur :D Siska.Doviana (talk)

title: User talk:06Ivonne


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viii modern editors are of course many, and have been recorded in the notes, in which are also specified constant obligations to the new Oxford English Dictionary. I have, however, ventured to dispute the application of two or three of its citations, e.g. in notes on IV. v. 230 and V. i. 16. The Cambridge Shakespeare has been used for variant readings subsequent to the first folio (F).

New matter, or supposed new interpretation, in the notes, includes a suggested explanation of the crux in I. ix. 46: “Let him be made an overture for the wars!”

References to other plays of Shakespeare apply to the Globe edition, and those to Gifford’s Jonson, ed. Cunningham, to the edition in three volumes. R. H. CASE

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 OF

THE TRAGEDY OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA

EDITED BY R. H. CASE

Fourth Edition

METHUEN AND CO. LTD. 36 ESSEX STREET: STRAND LONDON

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Page:A dictionary of the Sunda language of Java.djvu/182

Rh Jadi, the zodiacal sign Capricorn. Arabic. (جدي) Jadikěn, to make, to create, to produce, to bring forth, to cause. To confirm any transactions.

Jaga, to watch, to guard, to be awake, be vigilant. To attend upon. This word is no doubt Sanscrit, and is marked as such by Marsden. In Clough the simple word Jaga does not occur, but he gives Jāgara, P. 208, wakefulness, vigilance, waking. The word often occurs in the formation of proper names. Jaga Baya, a proper name. It occurs as the name of a village and surrounding lands, on the Estate Parungpanjang in the district of Jasinga, and was formerly attached to the court of Bantam. Jaga vide supra. Baya vide voce. Thus, the watcher for fear, alarm or mischief.

Jaga Bita, a proper name. It occurs as the name of a village and surrounding lands on the Estate Parungpanjang, formerly attached to the court of Bantam. Jaga vide Supra. Bita vide voce, thus the watcher of delight, pleasure; anticipating the wishes. Jaga Baya and Jaga Bita were, under the former government of Bantam's Sultans, villages called Abdi, or slaves, and were the dependents of some of the functionaries about the court.

Jagal, to slaughter animals for food and and for sale. Pajagalan, a butcher's shop, or rather the place where he kills the animals.

Jagat, land, country, district Jagat Bantan, the country of Bantam. Jagat, C. 203, the world, the universe, the earth.

Jagjag, to tread water; to go up to the neck in deep water and maintain oneself upright therein. To survey a country by going into it and examining it. To investigate. To Kajagjag, said of water of which the bottom cannot be felt by a man upright in it.

Jago, a daring man, a bully, a fellow always ready to fight; a Hector. Hayam jago, a fighting cock.

Jagong, Zea Mais, Maize, Indian Corn.

Jah, an exclamation of disbelief or of contempt.

Jahal, arabic, the planet Saturn. (زحل, Zuhal.)

Jahar, to sell a slave or bondsman.

Jahara, arabic, the planet Venus, (زهرة, Zahrat.)


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 sheep or cattle, as had been the first intention, he was kept as the man on the farm, and was always within call. So that George got into the habit of helping the old man, and now, when he saw Allan so eager and yet so desponding, he often came when Allan had been wanted, and quietly offered his services. In casual talk, and not as if he was offering advice, he contrived to impress the master with the idea that he must give Allan his head, and neither fret nor curb him. The object for which Allan was working now was a good one, and he had sense enough to be trusted to view it in his own way.

Allan was grateful to George Copeland for his timely and judicious aid, and when light began to shine out of darkness, when he too began to take hold of the work now before him, and he felt the thread that would lead him through the labyrinth of words and phrases to the fects, and the ideas, and the principles beyond, his face grew cheerful and he was as social and pleasant as before.

It was at the time of the midwinter holidays; the girls and the boys at school had petitioned to spend them at home, for it was miserable being at school from Christmas to Christmas, and they were all eager to see the girl whom their father and mother had taken home; so they were allowed to come

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spring came trouble. The Saxtons declared they were being bitten off the estate by rabbits. Suddenly, in a fit of despair, the father bought a gun. Although he knew that the Squire would not for one moment tolerate the shooting of that manna, the rabbits, yet he was out in the first cold morning twilight banging away. At first he but scared the brutes, and brought Annable on the scene; then, blooded by the use of the weapon, he played havoc among the furry beasts, bringing home some eight or nine couples.

George entirely approved of this measure; it rejoiced him even; yet he had never had the initiative to begin the like himself, or even to urge his father to it. He prophesied trouble, and possible loss of the farm. It disturbed him somewhat, to think they must look out for another place, but he postponed the thought of the evil day till the time should be upon him.

A vendetta was established between the Mill and the keeper, Annable. The latter cherished his rabbits:

“Call ’em vermin!” he said. “I only know one sort of vermin—and that’s the talkin sort.” So he set himself to thwart and harass the rabbit slayers.

It was about this time I cultivated the


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272 that it is not good for young people to read too many novels and poems, or rather to read nothing else, which we have been doing for these last six months. Mamma said that it did her harm when she was young; and when I have been indulging myself lately I have felt some compunction; but it is very pleasant. Still, though I go on with the characters, I do not feel as if I were one of them; I am not clever enough to be Jane Eyre, or handsome enough to be any other novel heroine. No; I am Amy Staunton all the time."

"That's what I ought to feel, but I do not," asid Allan; "so I think they hurt me more than they hurt you."

"But do not they give you some idea of life and manners out of your own circle?" asked Amy.

"Yas,” said Allen, thoughtfully, "some of them do. They carry me into the past, and into the remote as I have never been carried before; but then I have no confidence in their being true."

"And is it not better that we should take an interest in imaginary people than only in our daily work? I am speaking to account for my own feelings, and perhaps to defend them, but not to advise you, Allan,” said Amy, musingly. "For instance, if I had continued to live in London

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224 of the keeper. All the world hated him—to the people in the villages he was like a devil of the woods. Some miners had sworn vengeance on him for having caused their commital to gaol. But he had a great attraction for me; his magnificent physique, his great vigour and vitality, and his swarthy, gloomy face drew me.

He was a man of one idea:—that all civilisation was the painted fungus of rottenness. He hated any sign of culture. I won his respect one afternoon when he found me trespassing in the woods because I was watching some maggots at work in a dead rabbit. That led us to a discussion of life. He was a thorough materialist—he scorned religion and all mysticism. He spent his days sleeping, making intricate traps for weasels and men, putting together a gun, or doing some amateur forestry, cutting down timber, splitting it in logs for use in the hall, and planting young trees. When he thought, he reflected on the decay of mankind—the decline of the human race into folly and weakness and rottenness. “Be a good animal, true to your animal instinct,” was his motto. With all this, he was fundamentally very unhappy—and he made me also wretched. It was this power to communicate his unhappiness that made me somewhat dear to him, I think. He treated me as an affectionate father treats a delicate son; I noticed he liked to put his hand on my shoulder or my knee as we talked; yet withal, he asked me questions, and saved his thoughts to tell me, and believed in my knowledge like any acolyte.

I went up to the quarry woods one evening in early April, taking a look for Annable. I could not


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274 could be in the given time and space. You make out a very good case, Amy; but I am not to be won over," asid Allan.

"'Deed! I think Allan in the right o't," said Mrs. Lindsay, who came in during the conversation. "A wheen idle stories bred up out o' folk's ain heads, and it is a marvel to me how they ever could get there. For a' it gets printed it canna mak the thing true."

"Mrs. Troubridge asys she could not live in the bush without these books; they are her only amusement," said Amy.

"Weel, what does a woman with a house and a husband and bairns want wi' amusement? When a lassie marries she should asy good-day to sic things. No that Mr. Troubridge is extraordinary entsrtaining; but she keuned that when she took him. They asy she was a wild ane when he got the taming o' her; a douce sponsible man he looks, but no just the sort to tak a young lassie's e'e. And I suppose you and Iasbel behove to go next week to pay your visit that she keeps craiking about in her letters to you, Amy, and you'll see for yourselves what a dull life it is when a young thing takes up wi' a man that might be her father. It's a thing that I have nae opinion o' mysel'," said Mrs. Lindsay.

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310 's eagerness and interest had satisfied her conscience, she could not help grieving to think of what Allan would feel; but if she had thought that Edith and her aunt were not willing to welcome her, she would have felt guilty with regard to Amy too. In a worldly point of view, it was a great chance for Amy to be taken up in this way by her wealthy brother, and to live in the beautiful house of Stanmore; but then she would be lost to Allan. Husband and wife speculated on the chances of the young people having come to an understanding, and being either engaged or married. Jessie thought it unlikely, as she had had no hint on the subject, while George thought a great deal might he done in three months, when the liking was mutual and the young people constantly together. Old letters were taken out and read over with particular attention, but no conclusion could be come to.

It was a strange letter that Jessie penned to Amy on the following day—full of apologies, congratulations, hope, fear, surmises, recollections, anticipations. Amidst her bewilderment, she could not help looking forward with pleasure to seeing Amy again if she accepted her brother's invitation, and hearing the news from home more fully and minutely than could be done by letter, for surely, though Jessie saw more distinctly than

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Rh find him, however, in the wood. So I left the wildlands, and went along by the old red wall of the kitchen garden, along the main road as far as the mouldering church which stands high on a bank by the road-side, just where the trees tunnel the darkness, and the gloom of the highway startles the travellers at noon. Great trees growing on the banks suddenly fold over everything at this point in the swinging road, and in the obscurity rots the Hall church, black and melancholy above the shrinking head of the traveller.

The grassy path to the churchyard was still clogged with decayed leaves. The church is abandoned. As I drew near an owl floated softly out of the black tower. Grass overgrew the threshold. I pushed open the door, grinding back a heap of fallen plaster and rubbish, and entered the place. In the twilight the pews were leaning in ghostly disorder, the prayer-books dragged from their ledges, scattered on the floor in the dust and rubble, torn by mice and birds. Birds scuffled in the darkness of the roof. I looked up. In the upward well of the tower I could see a bell hanging. I stooped and picked up a piece of plaster from the ragged confusion of feathers, and broken nests, and remnants of dead birds. Up into the vault overhead I tossed pieces of plaster until one hit the bell, and it “tonged” out its faint remonstrance. There was a rustle of many birds like spirits. I sounded the bell again, and dark forms moved with cries of alarm overhead, and something fell heavily. I shivered in the dark, evil-smelling place, and hurried to get out of doors. I clutched my hands with relief and pleasure when I saw the


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226 sky above me quivering with the last crystal lights, and the lowest red of sunset behind the yew-boles. I drank the fresh air, that sparkled with the sound of the blackbirds and thrushes whistling their strong bright notes.

I strayed round to where the headstones, from their eminence leaned to look on the Hall below, where great windows shone yellow light on to the flagged court-yard, and the little fish pool. A stone stair-case descended from the graveyard to the court, between stone balustrades whose pock-marked grey columns still swelled gracefully and with dignity, encrusted with lichens. The staircase was filled with ivy and rambling roses—impassable. Ferns were unrolling round the big square halting place, half way down where the stairs turned.

A peacock, startled from the back premises of the Hall, came flapping up the terraces to the churchyard. Then a heavy footstep crossed the flags. It was the keeper. I whistled the whistle he knew, and he broke his way through the vicious rose-boughs up the stairs. The peacock flapped beyond me, on to the neck of an old bowed angel, rough and dark, an angel which had long ceased sorrowing for the lost Lucy, and had died also. The bird bent its voluptuous neck and peered about. Then it lifted up its head and yelled. The sound tore the dark sanctuary of twilight. The old grey grass seemed to stir, and I could fancy the smothered primroses and violets beneath it waking and gasping for fear.

The keeper looked at me and smiled. He nodded his head towards the peacock, saying:

“Hark at that damned thing!”


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Rh Again the bird lifted its crested head and gave a cry, at the same time turning awkwardly on its ugly legs, so that it showed us the full wealth of its tail glimmering like a stream of coloured stars over the sunken face of the angel.

“The proud fool!—look at it! Perched on an angel, too, as if it were a pedestal for vanity. That’s the soul of a woman—or it’s the devil.”

He was silent for a time, and we watched the great bird moving uneasily before us in the twilight.

“That’s the very soul of a lady,” he said, “the very, very soul. Damn the thing, to perch on that old angel. I should like to wring its neck.”

Again the bird screamed, and shifted awkwardly on its legs; it seemed to stretch its beak at us in derision. Annable picked up a piece of sod and flung it at the bird, saying:

“Get out, you screeching devil! God!” he laughed. “There must be plenty of hearts twisting under here,”—and he stamped on a grave, “when they hear that row.”

He kicked another sod from a grave and threw at the big bird. The peacock flapped away, over the tombs, down the terraces.

“Just look!” he said, “the miserable brute has dirtied that angel. A woman to the end, I tell you, all vanity and screech and defilement.”

He sat down on a vault and lit his pipe. But before he had smoked two minutes, it was out again. I had not seen him in a state of perturbation before.

“The church,” said I, “is rotten. I suppose they’ll stand all over the country like this, soon—with peacocks trailing the graveyards.”


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228 “Ay,” he muttered, taking no notice of me.

“This stone is cold,” I said, rising.

He got up too, and stretched his arms as if he were tired. It was quite dark, save for the waxing moon which leaned over the east.

“It is a very fine night,” I said. “Don’t you notice a smell of violets?”

“Ay! The moon looks like a woman with child. I wonder what Time’s got in her belly.”

“You?” I said. “You don’t expect anything exciting do you?”

“Exciting!—No—about as exciting as this rotten old place—just rot off—Oh, my God!—I’m like a good house, built and finished, and left to tumble down again with nobody to live in it.”

“Why—what’s up—really?”

He laughed bitterly, saying, “Come and sit down.”

He led me off to a seat by the north door, between two pews, very black and silent. There we sat, he putting his gun carefully beside him. He remained perfectly still, thinking.

“Whot’s up?” he said, at last, “Why—I’ll tell you. I went to Cambridge—my father was a big cattle dealer—he died bankrupt while I was in college, and I never took my degree. They persuaded me to be a parson, and a parson I was.

I went a curate to a little place in Leicestershire—a bonnie place, with not many people, and a fine old church, and a great rich parsonage. I hadn’t over-much to do, and the rector—he was the son of an Earl—was generous. He lent me a horse and would have me hunt like the rest. I always think of that place with a smell of honeysuckle while the grass is


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Rh wet in the morning. It was fine, and I enjoyed myself, and did the parish work all right. I believe I was pretty good.

A cousin of the rector’s used to come in the hunting season—a Lady Crystabel, lady in her own right. The second year I was there she came in June. There wasn’t much company, so she used to talk to me—I used to read then—and she used to pretend to be so childish and unknowing, and would get me telling her things, and talking to her, and I was hot on things. We must play tennis together, and ride together, and I must row her down the river. She said we were in the wilderness and could do as we liked. She made me wear flannels and soft clothes. She was very fine and frank and unconventional—ripping, I thought her. All the summer she stopped on. I should meet her in the garden early in the morning when I came from a swim in the river—it was cleared and deepened on purpose—and she’d blush and make me walk with her. I can remember I used to stand and dry myself on the bank full where she might see me—I was mad on her—and she was madder on me.

We went to some caves in Derbyshire once, and she would wander from the rest, and loiter, and, for a game, we played a sort of hide and seek with the party. They thought we’d gone, and they went and locked the door. Then she pretended to be frightened and clung to me, and said what would they think, and hid her face in my coat. I took her and kissed her, and we made it up properly. I found out afterwards—she actually told me—she’d got the idea from a sloppy French novel—the Romance of


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230 A Poor Young Man. I was the Poor Young Man.

We got married. She gave me a living she had in her parsonage, and we went to live at her Hall. She wouldn’t let me out of her sight. Lord!—we were an infatuated couple—and she would choose to view me in an aesthetic light. I was Greek statues for her, bless you: Croton, Hercules, I don’t know what! She had her own way too much—I let her do as she liked with me.

Then gradually she got tired—it took her three years to be really glutted with me. I had a physique then—for that matter I have now.”

He held out his arm to me, and bade me try his muscle. I was startled. The hard flesh almost filled his sleeve.

“Ah,” he continued, “You don’t know what it is to have the pride of a body like mine. But she wouldn’t have children—no, she wouldn’t—said she daren’t. That was the root of the difference at first. But she cooled down, and if you don’t know the pride of my body you’d never know my humiliation. I tried to remonstrate—and she looked simply astounded at my cheek. I never got over that amazement.

She began to get souly. A poet got hold of her, and she began to affect Burne-Jones—or Waterhouse—it was Waterhouse—she was a lot like one of his women—Lady of Shalott, I believe. At any rate, she got souly, and I was her animal—son animal—son boeuf. I put up with that for above a year. Then I got some servants’ clothes and went.

I was seen in France—then in Australia—though I never left England. I was supposed to have died


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Rh in the bush. She married a young fellow. Then I was proved to have died, and I read a little obituary notice on myself in a woman’s paper she subscribed to. She wrote it herself—as a warning to other young ladies of position not to be seduced by plausible “Poor Young Men.”

Now she’s dead. They’ve got the paper—her paper—in the kitchen down there, and it’s full of photographs, even an old photo of me—“an unfortunate misalliance.” I feel, somehow, as if I were at an end too. I thought I’d grown a solid, middle-aged-man, and here I feel sore as I did at twenty-six, and I talk as I used to.

One thing—I have got some children, and they’re of a breed as you’d not meet anywhere. I was a good animal before everything, and I’ve got some children.”

He sat looking up where the big moon swam through the black branches of the yew.

“So she’s dead—your poor peacock!” I murmured.

He got up, looking always at the sky, and stretched himself again. He was an impressive figure massed in blackness against the moonlight, with his arms outspread.

“I suppose,” he said, “it wasn’t all her fault.”

“A white peacock, we will say,” I suggested.

He laughed.

“Go home by the top road, will you!” he said. “I believe there’s something on in the bottom wood.”

“All right,” I answered, with a quiver of apprehension.

“Yes, she was fair enough,” he muttered.

“Ay,” said I, rising. I held out my hand from


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232 the shadow. I was startled myself by the white sympathy it seemed to express, extended towards him in the moonlight. He gripped it, and cleaved to me for a moment, then he was gone.

I went out of the churchyard feeling a sullen resentment against the tousled graves that lay inanimate across my way. The air was heavy to breathe, and fearful in the shadow of the great trees. I was glad when I came out on the bare white road, and could see the copper lights from the reflectors of a pony-cart’s lamps, and could hear the amiable chat-chat of the hoofs trotting towards me. I was lonely when they had passed.

Over the hill, the big flushed face of the moon poised just above the treetops, very majestic, and far off—yet imminent. I turned with swift sudden friendliness to the net of elm-boughs spread over my head, dotted with soft clusters winsomely. I jumped up and pulled the cool soft tufts against my face for company; and as I passed, still I reached upward for the touch of this budded gentleness of the trees. The wood breathed fragrantly, with a subtle sympathy. The firs softened their touch to me, and the larches woke from the barren winter-sleep, and put out velvet fingers to caress me as I passed. Only the clean, bare branches of the ash stood emblem of the discipline of life. I looked down on the blackness where trees filled the quarry and the valley bottoms, and it seemed that the world, my own home-world, was strange again.

Some four or five days after Annable had talked to me in the churchyard, I went out to find him


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Rh again. It was Sunday morning. The larch-wood was afloat with clear, lyric green, and some primroses scattered whitely on the edge under the fringing boughs. It was a clear morning, as when the latent life of the world begins to vibrate afresh in the air. The smoke from the cottage rose blue against the trees, and thick yellow against the sky. The fire, it seemed, was only just lighted, and the wood-smoke poured out.

Sam appeared outside the house, and looked round. Then he climbed the water-trough for a better survey. Evidently unsatisfied, paying slight attention to me, he jumped down and went running across the hillside to the wood. “He is going for his father,” I said to myself, and I left the path to follow him down hill across the waste meadow, crackling the blanched stems of last year’s thistles as I went, and stumbling in rabbit holes. He reached the wall that ran along the quarry’s edge, and was over it in a twinkling.

When I came to the place, I was somewhat non-plussed, for sheer from the stone fence, the quarry-side dropped for some twenty or thirty feet, piled up with unmortared stones. I looked round—there was a plain dark thread down the hillside, which marked a path to this spot, and the wall was scored with the marks of heavy boots. Then I looked again down the quarry-side, and I saw—how could I have failed to see?—stones projecting to make an uneven staircase, such as is often seen in the Derbyshire fences. I saw this ladder was well used, so I trusted myself to it, and scrambled down, clinging to the face of the quarry wall. Once down, I felt pleased with myself for having discovered and used the unknown access, and


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234 I admired the care and ingenuity of the keeper, who had fitted and wedged the long stones into the uncertain pile.

It was warm in the quarry; there the sunshine seemed to thicken and sweeten; there the little mounds of overgrown waste were aglow with very early dog-violets; there the sparks were coming out on the bits of gorse, and among the stones the colt-foot plumes were already silvery. Here was spring sitting just awake, unloosening her glittering hair, and opening her purple eyes.

I went across the quarry, down to where the brook ran murmuring a tale to the primroses and the budding trees. I was startled from my wandering among the fresh things by a faint clatter of stones.

“What’s that young rascal doing?” I said to myself, setting forth to see. I came towards the other side of the quarry: on this, the moister side, the bushes grew up against the wall, which was higher than on the other side, though piled the same with old dry stones. As I drew near I could hear the scrape, and rattle of stones, and the vigorous grunting of Sam as he laboured among them. He was hidden by a great bush of sallow catkins, all yellow, and murmuring with bees, warm with spice. When he came in view I laughed to see him lugging and grunting among the great pile of stones that had fallen in a mass from the quarry-side; a pile of stones and earth and crushed vegetation. There was a great bare gap in the quarry wall. Somehow, the lad’s labouring earnestness made me anxious, and I hurried up.

He heard me, and glancing round, his face red


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Rh with exertion, eyes big with terror, he called, commanding me:

“Pull ’em off ’im—pull ’em off!”

Suddenly my heart beating in my throat nearly suffocated me. I saw the hand of the keeper lying among the stones. I set to tearing away the stones, and we worked for some time without a word. Then I seized the arm of the keeper and tried to drag him out. But I could not.

“Pull it off ’im!” whined the lad, working in a frenzy.

When we got him out I saw at once he was dead, and I sat down trembling with exertion. There was a great smashed wound on the side of the head. Sam put his face against his father’s and snuffed round him like a dog, to feel the life in him. The child looked at me:

“He won’t get up,” he said, and his little voice was hoarse with fear and anxiety.

I shook my head. Then the boy began to whimper. He tried to close the lips which were drawn with pain and death, leaving the teeth bare; then his fingers hovered round the eyes, which were wide open, glazed, and I could see he was trembling to touch them into life.

“He’s not asleep,” he said, “because his eyes is open—look!”

I could not bear the child’s questioning terror. I took him up to carry him away, but he struggled and fought to be free.

“Ma’e ’im get up—ma’e ’im get up,” he cried in a frenzy, and I had to let the boy go.

He ran to the dead man, calling “Feyther!


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236 Feyther!” and pulling his shoulder; then he sat down, fascinated by the sight of the wound; he put out his finger to touch it, and shivered.

“Come away,” said I.

“Is it that?” he asked, pointing to the wound. I covered the face with a big silk handkerchief.

“Now,” said I, “he’ll go to sleep if you don’t touch him—so sit still while I go and fetch somebody. Will you run to the Hall?”

He shook his head. I knew he would not. So I told him again not to touch his father, but to let him lie still till I came back. He watched me go, but did not move from his seat on the stones beside the dead man, though I know he was full of terror at being left alone.

I ran to the Hall—I dared not go to the Kennels. In a short time I was back with the squire and three men. As I led the way, I saw the child lifting a corner of the handkerchief to peep and see if the eyes were closed in sleep. Then he heard us, and started violently. When we removed the covering, and he saw the face unchanged in its horror, he looked at me with a look I have never forgotten.

“A bad business—an awful business!” repeated the squire. “A bad business. I said to him from the first that the stones might come down when he was going up, and he said he had taken care to fix them. But you can’t be sure, you can’t be certain. And he’d be about half way up—ay—and the whole wall would come down on him. An awful business, it is really; a terrible piece of work!”

They decided at the inquest that the death came by misadventure. But there were vague rumours in


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Rh the village that this was revenge which had overtaken the keeper.

They decided to bury him in our churchyard at Greymede under the beeches; the widow would have it so, and nothing might be denied her in her state.

It was a magnificent morning in early spring when I watched among the trees to see the procession come down the hillside. The upper air was woven with the music of the larks, and my whole world thrilled with the conception of summer. The young pale wind-flowers had arisen by the wood-gale, and under the hazels, when perchance the hot sun pushed his way, new little suns dawned, and blazed with real light. There was a certain thrill and quickening everywhere, as a woman must feel when she has conceived. A sallow tree in a favoured spot looked like a pale gold cloud of summer dawn; nearer it had poised a golden, fairy busby on every twig, and was voiced with a hum of bees, like any sacred golden bush, uttering its gladness in the thrilling murmur of bees, and in warm scent. Birds called and flashed on every hand; they made off exultant with streaming strands of grass, or wisps of fleece, plunging into the dark spaces of the wood, and out again into the blue.

A lad moved across the field from the farm below with a dog trotting behind him,—a dog, no, a fussy, black-legged lamb trotting along on its toes, with its tail swinging behind. They were going to the mothers on the common, who moved like little grey clouds among the dark grose.

I cannot help forgetting, and sharing the spink’s triumph, when he flashes past with a fleece from a


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238 bramble bush. It will cover the bedded moss, it will weave among the soft red cow-hair beautifully. It is a prize, it is an ecstasy to have captured it at the right moment, and the nest is nearly ready.

Ah, but the thrush is scornful, ringing out his voice from the hedge! He sets his breast against the mud, and models it warm for the turquoise eggs—blue, blue, bluest of eggs, which cluster so close and round against the breast, which round up beneath the breast, nestling content. You should see the bright ecstasy in the eyes of a nesting thrush, because of the rounded caress of the eggs against her breast!

What a hurry the jenny wren makes—hoping I shall not see her dart into the low bush. I have a delight in watching them against their shy little wills. But they have all risen with a rush of wings, and are gone, the birds. The air is brushed with agitation. There is no lark in the sky, not one; the heaven is clear of wings or twinkling dot——.

Till the heralds come—till the heralds wave like shadows in the bright air, crying, lamenting, fretting forever. Rising and falling and circling round and round, the slow-waving peewits cry and complain, and lift their broad wings in sorrow. They stoop suddenly to the ground, the lapwings, then in another throb of anguish and protest, they swing up again, offering a glistening white breast to the sunlight, to deny it in black shadow, then a glisten of green, and all the time crying and crying in despair.

The pheasants are frightened into cover, they run and dart through the hedge. The cold cock must fly in his haste, spread himself on his streaming plumes, and sail into the wood’s security.


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Rh There is a cry in answer to the peewits, echoing louder and stronger the lamentation of the lapwings, a wail which hushes the birds. The men come over the brow of the hill, slowly, with the old squire walking tall and straight in front; six bowed men bearing the coffin on their shoulders, treading heavily and cautiously, under the great weight of the glistening white coffin; six men following behind, ill at ease, waiting their turn for the burden. You can see the red handkerchiefs knotted round their throats, and their shirt-fronts blue and white between the open waistcoats. The coffin is of new unpolished wood, gleaming and glistening in the sunlight; the men who carry it remember all their lives after the smell of new, warm elm-wood.

Again a loud cry from the hill-top. The woman has followed thus far, the big, shapeless woman, and she cries with loud cries after the white coffin as it descends the hill, and the children that cling to her skirts weep aloud, and are not to be hushed by the other woman, who bends over them, but does not form one of the group. How the crying frightens the birds, and the rabbits; and the lambs away there run to their mothers. But the peewits are not frightened, they add their notes to the sorrow; they circle after the white, retreating coffin, they circle round the woman; it is they who forever “keen” the sorrows of this world. They are like priests in their robes, more black than white, more grief than hope, driving endlessly round and round, turning, lifting, falling and crying always in mournful desolation, repeating their last syllables like the broken accents of despair.

The bearers have at last sunk between the high


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240 banks, and turned out of sight. The big woman cannot see them, and yet she stands to look. She must go home, there is nothing left.

They have rested the coffin on the gate posts, and the bearers are wiping the sweat from their faces. They put their hands to their shoulders on the place where the weight has pressed.

The other six are placing the pads on their shoulders, when a girl comes up with a jug, and a blue pot. The squire drinks first, and fills for the rest. Meanwhile the girl stands back under the hedge, away from the coffin which smells of new elm-wood. In imagination she pictures the man shut up there in close darkness, while the sunlight flows all outside, and she catches her breast with terror. She must turn and rustle among the leaves of the violets for the flowers she does not see. Then, trembling, she comes to herself, and plucks a few flowers and breathes them hungrily into her soul, for comfort. The men put down the pots beside her, with thanks, and the squire gives the word. The bearers lift up the burden again, and the elm-boughs rattle along the hollow white wood, and the pitiful red clusters of elm-flowers sweep along it as if they whispered in sympathy—“We are so sorry, so sorry——;” always the compassionate buds in their fulness of life bend down to comfort the dark man shut up there. “Perhaps,” the girl thinks, “he hears them, and goes softly to sleep.” She shakes the tears out of her eyes on to the ground, and, taking up her pots, goes slowly down, over the brooks.

In a while, I too got up and went down to the mill, which lay red and peaceful, with the blue


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Rh smoke rising as winsomely and carelessly as ever. On the other side of the valley I could see a pair of horses nod slowly across the fallow. A man’s voice called to them now and again with a resonance that filled me with longing to follow my horses over the fallow, in the still, lonely valley, full of sunshine and eternal forgetfulness. The day had already forgotten. The water was blue and white and dark-burnished with shadows; two swans sailed across the reflected trees with perfect blithe grace. The gloom that had passed across was gone. I watched the swan with his ruffled wings swell onwards; I watched his slim consort go peeping into corners and under bushes; I saw him steer clear of the bushes, to keep full in view, turning his head to me imperiously, till I longed to pelt him with the empty husks of last year’s flowers, knap-weed and scabius. I was too indolent, and I turned instead to the orchard.

There the daffodils were lifting their heads and throwing back their yellow curls. At the foot of each sloping, grey old tree stood a family of flowers, some bursten with golden fulness, some lifting their heads slightly, to show a modest, sweet countenance, others still hiding their faces, leaning forward pensively from the jaunty grey-green spears; I wished I had their language, to talk to them distinctly.

Overhead, the trees, with lifted fingers shook out their hair to the sun, decking themselves with buds as white and cool as a water-nymphs breasts.

I began to be very glad. The colts-foot discs glowed and laughed in a merry company down the path; I stroked the velvet faces, and laughed also,


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242 and I smelled the scent of black-currant leaves, which is full of childish memories.

The house was quiet and complacent; it was peopled with ghosts again; but the ghosts had only come to enjoy the warm place once more, carrying sunshine in their arms and scattering it through the dusk of gloomy rooms.


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User talk:Davidiad

— billinghurst  sDrewth  11:08, 30 June 2012 (UTC)
 * Thanks for the renewed welcome, Billinghurst.  davidiad.: 20:43, 30 June 2012 (UTC)

title: User talk:Davidiad


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Portal:LGBT

Ancient times

 * Eclogue II, a 42—38 BCE homoerotic poem by Virgil
 * Symposium by Plato (c. 385–370 BCE)
 * Satyricon by Petronius (1st century BCE)

Early modern era

 * Intrigues of Hermaphrodites and Masculine Females, 1718 erotic story by Giles Jacob, featuring two "masculine females"
 * Fanny Hill: Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, 1749 pornographic novel by John Cleland, featuring homosexual scene

Modern era

 * Gamiani, or Two Passionate Nights, 1833 lesbian erotic novel by Alfred de Musset
 * The Girl with the Golden Eyes, 1835 short story by Honoré de Balzac
 * Joseph and His Friend: A Story of Pennsylvania, 1870 gay novel by Bayard Taylor
 * Carmilla, 1872 lesbian vampire fiction novel by Sheridan Le Fanu
 * A Marriage Below Zero, 1889 gay novel by Alfred J. Cohen
 * Teleny, or The Reverse of the Medal, 1893 gay pornographic novel, widely attributed to Oscar Wilde
 * The Green Carnation, 1894 gay novel by Robert Smythe Hichens
 * Des Grieux, the Prelude to Teleny, 1899 gay pornographic novel, widely attributed to Oscar Wilde
 * Escal Vigor, 1899 gay novel by Georges Eekhoud
 * A Strange Railroad Wreck, 1904 lesbian female-to-male crossdressing story by George Collins
 * Imre: A Memorandum, 1906 gay novel by Xavier Mayne, widely considered to be the first one with a happy ending.
 * Butterfly Man, 1934 gay novel by Lew Levenson
 * Maybe—Tomorrow, 1952 gay erotic novel by Jay Little

Studies

 * Ancient and Modern Pederasty Investigated and Exemplify'd by Thomas Cannon (1749)
 * Psychopathia Sexualis, with especial reference to Contrary Sexual Instinct: A Medico-legal Study, 1892, 7th edition, foundational study of sexual pathology with special attention to male homosexuality by Austro-German psychiatrist Richard von Krafft-Ebing, English translation by Charles Gilbert Chaddock
 * A Problem in Modern Ethics, Being an Inquiry into the Phenomenon of Sexual Inversion, a 1896 study by John Addington Symonds
 * The Intersexes: A History of Similisexualism as a Problem in Social Life, a large 1908 study on homosexuality by Edward Irenaeus Prime-Stevenson

Other documents

 * Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist, 1912 autobiography of Alexander Berkman, including notes on prison homosexuality
 * Proclamation 5709, 1987 about HIV/AIDS by U.S. President Ronald Reagan
 * Alteration of Sex Description and Sex Status Act, 2003, enacted by the Parliament of South Africa
 * Declaration of Montreal on Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Human Rights, 2006 by the International Conference on LGBT Human Rights
 * The Dedication of Harvey Milk Statue, 2008 by Nancy Pelosi
 * Proclamation 8387: Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month, 2009, by U.S. President Barack Obama
 * Celebrating LGBT Pride Month, 2010 by Alcee Lamar Hastings
 * Designating Stonewall National Monument (Presidential Weekly Address - 25 June 2016), by U.S. President Barack Obama
 * Military Service by Transgender Individuals, 2017 Presidential Memorandum by Donald Trump

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Page:Vedic Grammar.djvu/9

 BY

A. A. MACDONELL.

STRASSBURG

VERLAG VON KARL J. TRÜBNER

1910.

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 Mary Stuart.

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User talk:Tbayer (WMF)

— billinghurst  sDrewth  11:48, 30 June 2012 (UTC)

Well, welcome under this username Tilman. — billinghurst  sDrewth  11:48, 30 June 2012 (UTC)

The following was added to your reply at WS:S, as it is not part of the announcement, instead commentary and debate, it has been removed here. "Uncle G (talk) 14:14, 30 June 2012 (UTC)"

title: User talk:Tbayer (WMF)


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User:Liliana-60

m:wikt:User:Liliana-60

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User talk:Liliana-60

Welcome

Hello, Liliana-60, and welcome to Wikisource! Thank you for. I hope you like the place and decide to stay. Here are a few good links for newcomers:
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Again, welcome! John Vandenberg (chat) 12:12, 30 June 2012 (UTC)

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