The Novelist's Magazine, Volume 5 (Google eBook)

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Harrison and Company, 1781 - English fiction
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Page 194 - He shall not drop," said my uncle Toby, firmly. " A-well-o'-day, do what we can for him," said Trim, maintaining his point, " the poor soul will die." " He shall not die, by G !" cried my uncle Toby. The Accusing Spirit, which flew up to Heaven's chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in ; and the Recording Angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever.
Page 190 - I will answer for thee, cried my uncle Toby : and thou shalt drink the poor gentleman's health in a glass of sack thyself, and take a couple of bottles with my service, and tell him he is heartily welcome to them, and to a dozen more, if they will do him good. Though I am persuaded...
Page 5 - Pray, my Dear,' quoth my mother, 'have you not forgot to wind up the clock?' 'Good G !' cried my father, making an exclamation, but taking care to moderate his voice at the same time, ' Did ever woman, since the creation of the world, interrupt a man with such a silly question ? ' Pray, what was your father saying ? Nothing.
Page 192 - I thought it wrong, added the Corporal. I think so too, said my uncle Toby. When the lieutenant had taken his glass of sack and toast, he felt himself a little revived, and sent...
Page 192 - But alas, the poor gentleman will never get from hence, said the landlady to me, for I heard the death-watch all night long ; and when he dies, the youth, his son, will certainly die with him, for he is broken-hearted already. I was hearing this account...
Page 194 - A sick brother officer should have the best quarters, Trim, and if we had him with us, we could tend and look to him. Thou art an excellent nurse thyself, Trim, and what with thy care of him, and the old woman's, and his boy's, and mine together, we might recruit him again at once, and set him upon his legs. In a fortnight or three weeks," added my uncle Toby, smiling, " he might march." " He will never march, an' please your honour, in this world,
Page 50 - Go says he, one day at dinner, to an overgrown one which had buzzed about his nose, and tormented him cruelly all dinner-time, and which, after infinite attempts, he had caught at last, as it flew by him; I'll not hurt thee, says my uncle Toby, rising from his chair, and going across the room, with the fly in his hand, I'll not hurt a hair of thy head: Go...
Page 21 - ... it be but the History of Jack Hickathrift or Tom Thumb, he knows no more than his heels what lets and confounded hindrances he is to meet with in his way, or what a dance he may be led, by one excursion or another, before all is over.
Page 48 - WRITING, when properly managed, (as you may be sure I think mine is) is but a different name for conversation : As no one, who knows what he is about in good company, would venture to talk all; so no author, who understands the just boundaries of decorum and good breeding, would presume to think all : The truest respect which you can pay to the reader's understanding, is to halve this matter amicably, and leave him something to imagine, in his turn, as well as yourself.
Page 168 - Are we not here now, continued the corporal (striking the end of his stick perpendicularly upon the floor, so as to give an idea of health and stability) and are we not (dropping his hat upon the ground) gone!

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