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abode ain't Archibald Glossett Archy aunt barge Belgrave Square better bitter beer blessing called canal carriage certainly Chaffer Chesham Place child Clakett cobbler comfort companion counting-house cousin Crissy Crissy's dear door drawing-room drink drunkard Ethel eyes face father fear feeling Francis Withering Frank gentleman girl Granny Ferret habits hand head heard hope horse John Withering knew Larch Clump lived look Maida Hill mamma Martin Oliphant master Mildred Miss Christine Miss Stafford Miss Suppleton morning mother neighbouring never night old Job Tufton old man's once opened papa poor returned round round handwriting seemed sleep soon speak spoke strong Sutcliffe tears teetotalism teetotaller tell there's thing thought tone took towing-path twenty-third Psalm voice walk Weary-rest wife wish Withering's woman words young Glossett young lady
Page 75 - Poked my feet into slippers, my fire into blaze, And said to myself, as I lit my cigar, " Supposing a man had the wealth of the Czar Of the Russias to boot, for the rest of his days, On the whole, do you think he would have much to spare, If he married a woman with nothing to wear?
Page 126 - Think, every morning when the sun peeps through The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, How jubilant the happy birds renew Their old melodious madrigals of love ! And when you think of this, remember too 'Tis always morning somewhere, and above The awakening continents, from shore to shore, Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.
Page 74 - But there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream...
Page 83 - If now, as formerly he trod Paradise, his presence fills Our earth, each only as God wills Can work — God's puppets, best and worst, Are we ; there is no last nor first. Say not 'a small event!' Why 'small?' Costs it more pain that this, ye call A 'great event' should come to pass, Than that?
Page 74 - ... all at once by a torrent of tears, And my last faint, despairing attempt at an obsErvation was lost in a tempest of sobs. Well, I felt for the lady, and felt for my hat, too, Improvised on the crown of the latter a tattoo, In lieu of expressing the feelings which lay Quite too deep for words...
Page 121 - Here's an eye, Able to tempt a great man — to serve God : A pretty hanging lip, that has forgot now to dissemble. Methinks this mouth should make a swearer tremble ; A drunkard clasp his teeth, and not undo 'em, To suffer wet damnation to run through 'em.
Page 21 - That brings into the home-sick mind All we have loved and left behind, Night is the time for care ; Brooding on hours mis-spent, To see the spectre of Despair Come to our lonely tent ; Like Brutus midst his slumbering host Startled by Caesar's stalwart ghost.
Page 67 - And the poison they draw we denominate Gin. There enter the prude, and the reprobate boy, The mother of grief, and the daughter of joy, The serving-maid slim, and the serving.man stout, They quickly steal in, and they slowly reel out. Surcharged with the venom, some walk forth erect, Apparently baffling its deadly effect; But, sooner or later, the reckoning arrives, And ninety-nine perish for one who survives.
Page 90 - For passions linked to forms so fair And stately needs must have their share Of noble sentiment. But ill he lived, much evil saw With men to whom no better law Nor better life was known ; Deliberately and undeceived Those wild men's vices he received, And gave them back his own.