Brother Francis produced the blueprint. “The highwayman was kind enough to leave this in my keeping, Holy Father. He – he mistook it for a copy of the illumination which I was bringing as a gift.”
“You did not correct his mistake?”
Brother Francis blushed. “I’m ashamed to admit, Holy Father –”
“This, then, is the original relic you found in the crypt?”
“Yes –”
The Pope’s smile became wry. “So, then – the bandit thought your work was the treasure itself? Ah – even a robber can have a keen eye for art, yes? Monsignor Aguerra told us of the beauty of your commemoration. What a pity that it was stolen.”
“It was nothing, Holy Father. I only regret that I wasted fifteen years.”
“Wasted? How ‘wasted’? If the robber had not been misled by the beauty of your commemoration, he might have taken this, might he not?”
Canticle For Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr. (1959)
The smell of coffee in the morning is great incentive to wake up for the day. Drinking a cup o’ joe which has such pleasant flavor makes life worth living. And coffee gets one moving, and you know: moving is good for you.
On the second day of her hunting, as she was returning from the chase, and was arrived within a little distance from Mr Western’s house, her horse, whose mettlesome spirit required a better rider, fell suddenly to prancing & capering in such a manner that she was in the most imminent peril of falling.
Tom Jones, who was at a little distance behind, saw this, and immediately galloped up to her assistance.
As soon as he came up, he leapt from his own horse, and caught hold of hers by the bridle.
The unruly beast presently reared himself an end on his hind legs, and threw his lovely burthen from his back, and Jones caught her in his arms.
The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding (1749)