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Page 67 - And tatter'd covering, shrilly bawls his trade, Rousing the sleepy housemaid. At the door The milk-pail rattles, and the tinkling bell Proclaims the dustman's office; while the street Is lost in clouds impervious. Now begins The din of hackney-coaches, waggons, carts; While tinmen's shops, and noisy trunk-makers, Knife-grinders, coopers, squeaking cork-cutters, Fruit barrows, and the hunger-giving cries Of vegetable venders, fill the air.
Page 66 - Buy my flounders, and is followed by an old burly drab, that screams out the sale of her maids and her soul at the same instant. Here a sooty chimney-sweeper takes the wall of a grave alderman, and a broom-man jostles the parson of the parish. There a fat greasy porter runs a trunk full-butt upon you, while another salutes your antlers with a basket of eggs and butter. Turn out there, you country putt, says a bully with a sword two yards long jarring at his heels, and throws him into the kennel.
Page 84 - Had spoilt the best chintz curtains and the paper And cost her many a pound in stucco : And then she quoted our King James, who saith "Tobacco is the Devil's breath.
Page 65 - London is a world by itself; we daily discover in it more new countries and surprising singularities than in all the universe besides. There are among the Londoners so many nations differing in manners, customs, and religions, that the inhabitants themselves don't know a quarter of ‘em. Imagine, then, what an Indian would think of such a motley herd of people...
Page 95 - The sheriff being *answerable for the misdemesnors (17) of these bailiffs, they are therefore usually bound in an obligation with sureties for the due execution of their office, and thence are called bound-bailiffs; which the common people have corrupted into a much more homely appellation.
Page 68 - Is slily open'd, and the half-worn suit (Sometimes the pilfer'd treasure of the base Domestic spoiler), for one half its worth, Sinks in the green abyss. The porter now Bears his huge load along the burning way ; And the poor poet wakes from busy dreams, To paint the summer morning.
Page 15 - ... empty dreams. But this is with you for ever. The' phantom of fear is always about you. You feel it in the day at every turn ; and at night you see it illuminated and made terrible, in a million fantastic shapes.
Page 83 - twas meat, and drink, and physic, To see the friendly vapour Curl round his midnight taper, And the black fume Clothe all the room, In clouds as dark as science mataphysic.
Page 84 - So still he smoked, and drank, and crack'd his joke; and, had he single tarried, he might have smoked, and still grown old in smoke : but Richard married. His wife was one who carried the cleanly virtues almost to a vice, she was so nice : and thrice a week, above, below, the house was...