Skip to content

- George Herbert

The harbingers are come. See, see their mark;

White is their colour, and behold my head.

But must they have my brain? must they dispark

Those sparkling notions, which therein were bred?

...

Read full poem

noun

A fight involving three or more individuals, teams, or factions; fought until one person, team, or faction is left standing.

Know more

Chapter 17 of 20

18 min read

SOLOMON’S TREASURE CHAMBER

While we were engaged in recovering from our fright, and in examining the grisly wonders of the Place of Death, Gagool had been differently occupied. Somehow or other—for she was marvellously active when she chose—she had scrambled on to the great table, and made her way to where our departed friend Twala was placed, under the drip, to see, suggested Good, how he was “pickling,” or for some dark purpose of her own. Then, after bending down to kiss his icy lips as though in affectionate greeting, she hobbled back, stopping now and again to address the remark, the

Chapter 17

1 / 28

1 of 28

← → keys or swipe to turn pages