More Mornings at Bow Street: A New Collection of Humorous and Entertaining Reports

Front Cover
James Robins and Company, 1827 - Crime - 264 pages
 

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 110 - O thou invisible spirit of wine ! if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.
Page 81 - And beheld among the simple ones, I discerned among the youths, A young man void of understanding, Passing through the street near her corner ; And he went the way to her house, In the twilight, in the evening, In the black and dark night...
Page 101 - Who press the downy couch, while slaves advance With timid eye, to read the distant glance; Who with sad prayers the weary doctor tease, To name the nameless ever-new disease; Who with mock patience dire complaints endure, Which real pain and that alone can cure; How would ye bear in real pain to lie, Despised, neglected, left alone to die...
Page 22 - Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk, By Alloway's auld haunted kirk. Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet, To think how mony counsels sweet, How mony lengthen'd sage advices, The husband frae the wife despises ! But to our tale : Ae market night, Tam had got planted unco right ; Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, Wi...
Page 37 - ... fenders, fire shovels, — nothing came amiss to her ! She heaped them upon me like fury ; and as soon as I could disentangle myself from amongst them, she flew at me, tore my shirt off my back, and there was I scampering about stark naked, — saving your Worship's presence, — and she smacking me round and round the room with a fire shovel ! Only think, your Worship, of being smacked with a fire shovel ! Would any good wife do that, I should like to know ? I cried murder ! " etc. That the...
Page 205 - Gie him strong drink, until he wink, That's sinking in despair; And liquor guid, to fire his bluid, That's prest wi' grief and care; There let him boose, and deep carouse, Wi' bumpers flowing o'er, Till he forgets his loves or debts, And minds his griefs no more.
Page 37 - I'll go to bed;" she made no reply, and I went to bed; and .whatever possessed her I know no more than the child unborn, but I hadn't been in bed many minutes before she rushed into the room, and pulled me, bed, bedstead, and all, slap into the middle of the floor! Lord bless you, sir! chairs, tables, pokers, fenders, fire shovels—nothing came amiss to hf r!
Page 261 - Ye walkers too, that youthful colours wear, Three sullying trades avoid with equal care : The little chimney-sweeper skulks along, And marks with sooty stains the heedless throng ; When small-coal...
Page 41 - All races, fairs, and other such conglomerations of those whom Heaven had blessed with more money than wit, used to be frequented by minor members of 'The Fancy,' who are technically called flat-catchers, and who picked up a very pretty living by a quick hand, a rattling tongue, a deal board, three thimbles, and a pepper-corn. The game they played with these three curious articles is a sort of Lilliputian game at cups and balls; and the beauty of it lies in dexterously seeming to place the pepper-corn...
Page 42 - Every operator at [the thimble rig] is attended by certain of his friends, called eggen and bonnetière — the eggere, to egg on the green ones to bet, by betting themselves ; and the bonnetiers, to bonnet any green one who may happen to win — that is to say, to knock his hat over his eyes, whilst the operator and the others bolt with the stakes ' : 1827, John Wight, More Morning

Bibliographic information