The Link-boy, on the same scale of declension, scorned the kennel-raker; but we know not, though doubtless he could, who he thought more contemptible than himself.

They really are better off indoors, I think, and the collective sigh of pleasure from the newly housed ewes as they gratefully subside into a deep, dry, straw bed, tells me that they agree.

From the ground, Colombo’s port does not look like much. Those entering it are greeted by wire fences, walls dating back to colonial times and security posts. For mariners leaving the port after lonely nights on the high seas, the delights of the B52 Night Club and Stallion Pub lie a stumble away.

Some of you are making a great swash in life and after awhile will die, leaving your families beggars, and will expect us ministers of the Gospel to come and lie about your excellencies; but we will not do it.