We must bestir ourselves and impell ourselves, what the devil! As for me, I've finished my political efforts for peace and order.

It's _your_ turn!" He is right.

Looking at the ageing man, I note that his framework is slightly bowed; that his ill-shaven cheeks are humpbacked with little ends of hair turning into white crystals.

In his lowly sphere he has done his duty.

I reflect upon the mite-like efforts of the unimportant people; of the mountains of tasks performed by anonymity.