arton farmyard, went softly and stood in the dark shadow of the
mill-house. The moon shone full upon the face of the dwelling, and its
three fruit-trees looked as though painted in profound black against the
pale whitewash; while Phoebe's dormer-window framed the splendour of the
reflected sky, and shone very brightly. The blind was down, and the
maiden behind it had been asleep an hour or two; but Will pictured her
as sobbing her heart out still. Perhaps he would never see her again.
The path he had chosen to follow might take him over seas and through
vast perils; indeed, it must do so if the success he desired was to be
won. He felt something almost like a catch in his throat as he turned
away and crossed the sleeping river. He glanced down through dreaming
glades and saw one motionless silver spot on the dark waters beneath the
alders. Sentiment was at its flood just then, and he spoke a few words
under his breath. "'Tis thicky auld Muscovy duck, roostin' on his li'l
island; poor lone devil wi' never a mate to fight for nor friend to swim
along with. Worse case than mine, come to think on it!" Then an emotion,
rare enough with him, vanished, and he sniffed the night air and felt
his heart beat high at thoughts of what lay ahead.

Will returned home, made fast the outer door, took off his boots, and
went softly up a creaking stair. Loud and steady music came from the
room where John Grimbal lay, and Blanchard smiled when he heard it.
"'Tis the snore of a happy man with money in his purse," he thought.
Then he stood by his mother's door, which she always kept ajar at night,
and peeped in upon her. Damaris Blanchard slumbered with one arm on the
coverlet, the other behind her head. She was a handsome woman still, and
looked younger than her eight-and-forty years in the soft ambient light.
"Muneshine do make dear mother so purty as a queen," said Will to
himself. And he would never wish her "good-by," perhaps never see her
again. He hastened with light, impulsive step into the room, t

Oscar Fingal OFlahertie Wills Wilde (16 October 1854 30 November 1900) was an Irish playwright, novelist, poet, and author of short stories. Known for his biting wit, he was one of the most successful playwrights of late Victorian London, and one of the greatest celebrities of his day. Raised in Dublin he later studied at Trinity College, Dublin and Magdalen College, Oxford. After graduating with honours he spent the next few years in London, the United States and Paris. He married Constance Lloyd in 1884 and the couple had two sons. As the result of a widely covered trial, Wilde suffered a dramatic downfall and was imprisoned for two years of hard labour after being convicted of the offence of gross indecency.

Various, or Various Production, is an English dubstep/electronic music duo formed in 2003. The group blends samples, acoustic and electronic instrumentation, and singing from a revolving cast of vocalists. Its members, Adam and Ian, purposefully give very little information about the group or themselves, and tend to do little in the way of self-promotion.[1] Nevertheless, the group began winning critical acclaim with its single releases in 2005 and 2006.[2] Their full-length for XL, The World is Gone, arrived in July of 2006.[3][4][5][6][7] They have released a large number of vinyl EPs and 7 records, as well as digital exclusives for Rough Trade, iTunes, and Boomkat.[8]