The Ingoldsby legends; or, Mirth and marvels, by Thomas Ingoldsby. With a memoir of the author [by R.H.D. Barham]. Repr (Google eBook)

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Richard Harris Dalton Barham
1856
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Page 89 - Distrust the condiment that bites so soon; But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault To add a double quantity of salt; Four times the spoon with oil of Lucca crown, And twice with vinegar procured from town; And lastly o'er the flavoured compound toss A magic soupcon of anchovy sauce.
Page 211 - Cardinal drew off each plum-colour'd shoe, And left his red stockings exposed to the view; He peeps, and he feels, In the toes and the heels; They turn up the dishes, - they turn up the plates, They take up the poker...
Page 210 - And a nice little boy had a nice cake of soap, Worthy of washing the hands of the Pope. One little boy more A napkin bore, Of the best white diaper, fringed with pink, And a Cardinal's Hat mark'd in permanent ink.
Page 212 - His pinions droop'd he could hardly stand, His head was as bald as the palm of your hand ; His eye so dim, So wasted each limb, That, heedless of grammar, they all cried, "THAT'S HIM ! That's the scamp that has done this scandalous thing ! That's the thief that has got my Lord Cardinal's Ring!
Page 210 - The Devil must be in that little Jackdaw!' The feast was over, the board was...
Page 209 - THE Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair ! Bishop, and abbot, and prior were there ; Many a monk, and many a friar, Many a knight, and many a squire, With a great many more of lesser degree, In sooth a goodly company ; And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee.
Page 34 - O'er the bosom softly stealing, Chasten'd grief, delicious woe ! Oh ! how sweet at eve regaining Yon lone tower's sequester'd shade Sadly mute and uncomplaining " Yow ! yeough ! yeough ! yow ! yow ! yelled a hapless sufferer from beneath the table.
Page 61 - I know not how to thank you. Rude I am In speech and manners : never till this hour Stood I in such a presence...
Page 262 - ... wool at Christmas, beg Dominie Dumps's boys a holiday, and dine upon sprats on Good Friday ! A low moan from the subject of these eulogies seemed to intimate that the enumeration of her good deeds was not altogether lost on her, that the parting spirit felt and rejoiced in the testimony. ' She was too good for earth ! ' continued Sir Guy. ' Ye-ye-yes ! ' sobbed Beatrice. ' I did not deserve her !
Page 284 - Lord Tomnoddy stept into his cab Dark rifle green, with a lining of drab ; Through street and through square, His high-trotting mare, Like one of Ducrow's, goes pawing the air. Adown Piccadilly and Waterloo Place Went the high-trotting mare at a very quick pace ; She produced some alarm, But did no great harm, Save frightening a nurse with a child on her arm, Spattering with clay Two urchins at play...

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