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ain't appeared Arabella arter Bardell Ben Allen Benjamin Allen Bob Sawyer Brick Lane chair cheerful Cluppins coach coat countenance cried dear sir Dodson and Fogg door Dowler Eatanswill Esquire exclaimed eyes face fat boy father feelings fellow fire gentle glass goblin Grummer hand head hear heard heerd honour horse hostler inquired Jingle Jinks Job Trotter knock laughed legs Lobbs looked Lowten ma'am Magnus matter ment mind morning never night nodded Nupkins old gentleman old lady once paused Pell Perker Pick Pickwick Pickwick Club pocket Pott Raddle rejoined replied Roker round Samivel Sammy Samuel Pickwick Samuel Weller Smangle smile Snodgrass stairs Stiggins stopped stranger there's thing thought tion tipstaff took Tupman turned uncle vith voice walked Wardle wery whispered wick window Winkle words young lady
Page 280 - It is difficult to smile with an aching heart; it is ill jesting when our deepest sympathies are awakened. My client's hopes and prospects are ruined, and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation is gone indeed. The bill is down — but there is no tenant. Eligible single gentlemen pass and repass — but there is no invitation for them to inquire within or without. All is gloom and silence in the house; even the voice of the child is hushed; his infant sports are disregarded when his...
Page 7 - ... cried the loquacious stranger, as they came out under the low archway, which in those days formed the entrance to the coachyard. 'Terrible place — dangerous work — other day — five children — mother — tall lady, eating sandwiches — forgot the arch — crash — knock — children look round — mother's head off — sandwich in her hand — no mouth to put it in — head of a family off — shocking, shocking! Looking at Whitehall, sir? — fine place — little window — somebody...
Page 277 - The plaintiff, gentlemen," continued Serjeant Buzfuz, in a soft and melancholy voice, "the plaintiff is a widow; yes, gentlemen, a widow. The late Mr. Bardell, after enjoying, for many years, the esteem and confidence of his sovereign, as one of the guardians of his royal revenues, glided almost imperceptibly from the world, to seek elsewhere for that repose and peace which a custom-house can never afford.
Page 90 - I'm sure I ought to be a very happy woman," said Mrs. Bardell. " And your little boy " said Mr. Pickwick. " Bless his heart ! " interposed Mrs. Bardell, with a maternal sob. " He, too, will have a companion,
Page 242 - Mr. Winkle, stooping forward with his body half doubled up, was being assisted over the ice by Mr. Weller, in a very singular and un-swanlike manner, when Mr. Pickwick most innocently shouted from the opposite bank, — '"Sam!' '"Sir?' said Mr. Weller. '"Here, I want you.
Page 285 - I rayther suspect it was my father, my lord," replied Sam. " Do you see him here now ?" said the judge. " No, I don't, my lord," replied Sam, staring right up into the lantern in the roof of the court. " If you could have pointed him out, I would have committed him instantly,
Page 220 - Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; and transport the sailor and the traveller thousands of miles away, back to his own fireside and his quiet home!
Page 267 - Wot's the good o' callin' a young 'ooman a Wenus or a angel, Sammy?" "Ah! what, indeed?" replied Sam. " You might jist as well call her a griffin, or a unicorn, or a king's arms at once, which is wery well known to be a col-lection o' fabulous animals,
Page 242 - He was seated on the ice, making spasmodic efforts to smile; but anguish was depicted on every lineament of his countenance. 'Are you hurt?' inquired Mr Benjamin Allen, with great anxiety. 'Not much," said Mr Winkle, rubbing his back very hard. 'I wish you'd let me bleed you,' said Mr Benjamin, with great eagerness.
Page 69 - Borough especially, there still remain some half dozen old inns, which have preserved their external features unchanged, and which have escaped alike the rage for public improvement, and the encroachments of private speculation. Great, rambling, queer, old places they are, with galleries, and passages, and staircases, wide enough, and antiquated enough, to furnish materials for a hundred ghost stories...