At every tepee and shack they visited there was some token of love awaiting Father Roland; a rare skin here, a pair of moccasins there, a pair of snow shoes that it had taken an Indian woman's hands weeks to make, choice cuts of meat, but mostly—as they travelled along—the thickly furred skins of animals; and never did they go to a place at which the Missioner did not leave something in return, usually some article of clothing so thick and warm that no Indian was rich enough to buy it for himself at the Post.
— from The Courage of Marge O'Doone by James Oliver Curwood

Uncle suffers, any one can see that, but he does not dress up in velvet and silk, and laugh, and dance, and talk nonsense merrily over the grave where all his hopes are buried.
— from A Song of a Single Note: A Love Story by Amelia E. Barr

Mine Host provided dinner according to the directions, and noon came, but no Lord, or Attendants; at length dinner was forced to be taken up, or spoiled, and then the young Lord was enquired for, who was still in Bed, and could not rise, for they had taken his fine Clothes with them: in fine, upon search, an old Country Suit was found, which now our young Lord owned to be his, and could speak English , saying, they were gone and carried away his fine cloaths.
— from The English Rogue: Continued in the Life of Meriton Latroon, and Other Extravagants, Comprehending the most Eminent Cheats of Both Sexes: The Third Part by Francis Kirkman

While this interesting little episode was being performed up stairs, an open carriage, showily caparisoned and drawn by a stylish pair of well-groomed bays, drew up at the door.
— from The Von Toodleburgs Or, The History of a Very Distinguished Family by F. Colburn (Francis Colburn) Adams

[Pg 122] forget; but some things are never forgotten; out of sight or laid aside for a time they may be, until some accident, or circumstance slight and trivial perhaps in itself, recalls them; and then there they are as vivid and fresh as ever, holding the same place and clinging round the heart with the same weight and tightness as ever; until again they fade away into the shade; crossed out, as a pen does a wrong word, yet the writing is there, though faintly and imperfectly visible, whatever pains we take to erase it.
— from It May Be True, Vol. 1 (of 3) by Wood, Henry, Mrs.

I once knew a young lady who, on going to pay a visit to a friend who had recently moved into a new house, was asked to walk up stairs, and on complying saw an old woman preceding her up the staircase.
— from Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 12, No. 29, August, 1873 by Various

She straightened one or two chairs, picked up some articles of clothing scattered about the floor, and opened the door.
— from Beulah by Augusta J. (Augusta Jane) Evans

Confederation of the United States, Articles of. Connecticut, settlement of; charter of.
— from A Short History of the United States for School Use by Edward Channing