unds near Chagford, and to have a snug
game-cover or two about it, with a few good acres of arable land
bordering on forest. Roots meant cover for partridges in John Grimbal's
mind; beech and oak in autumn represented desirable food for pheasants;
and corn, once garnered and out of the way, left stubble for all manner
of game.

Meantime, whilst he reviewed his future with his eyes on a blue cloud of
tobacco smoke, Martin passed Phoebe Lyddon farther down the valley. Him
she recognised as a stranger; but he, with his eyes engaged in no more
than unconscious guarding of his footsteps, his mind buried in the
fascinating problems of early British castramentation, did not look at
her or mark a sorrowful young face still stained with tears.

Into the gorge Phoebe had wandered after reading her sweetheart's
letter. There, to the secret ear of the great Mother, instinct had drawn
her and her grief; and now the earliest shock was over; a dull, numb
pain of mind followed the first sorrow; unwonted exercise had made her
weary; and physical hunger, not to be stayed by mental suffering, forced
her to turn homewards. Red-eyed and unhappy she passed beside the river,
a very picture of a woful lover.

The sound of Phoebe's steps fell on John Grimbal's ear as he lay upon
his back with crossed knees and his hands behind his head. He partly
rose therefore, thrust his face above the fern, saw the wayfarer, and
then sprang to his feet. The cause of her tearful expression and
listless demeanour was known to him, but he ignored them and greeted her
cheerily.

"Can't catch anything big enough to keep, and sha'n't until the rain
comes," he said; "so I'll walk along with you, if you're going home."

He offered his hand; then, after Phoebe had shaken it, moved beside her
and put up his rod as he went.

"Saw your father this morning, and mighty glad I was to find him so
blooming. To my eye he looks younger than my memory picture of him. But
that's because I've grown from boy to man, as you have from chil

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]