The Comic AnnualHurst, Chance, and Company, 1839 - English wit and humor |
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Page xvi
... Black for a Friend A Fleet off the Mother Bank Cambridge Butter Blowing up for Rain Losing Ground The Electrical Eel " Does your Father know you're in ? " A Tea - Totaller · " Is that Rogers ' Last or your own ? " • DESIGNED AND DRAWN ...
... Black for a Friend A Fleet off the Mother Bank Cambridge Butter Blowing up for Rain Losing Ground The Electrical Eel " Does your Father know you're in ? " A Tea - Totaller · " Is that Rogers ' Last or your own ? " • DESIGNED AND DRAWN ...
Page 13
... black ones . Then there was the Corn Bill . She had never been in a scrimmage , but she thought she could let fly a blunderbusk . Justice wasn't justice any where . What had we done for the Irish , except taking all their pigs and ...
... black ones . Then there was the Corn Bill . She had never been in a scrimmage , but she thought she could let fly a blunderbusk . Justice wasn't justice any where . What had we done for the Irish , except taking all their pigs and ...
Page 31
... black as coal Burn all Boz's imitators ! Burn all tales without a head ! Burn a candle near the curtain Burn your Burns , and burn your bed ! Burn all wrongs that won't be righted , Poor poor Soup , and Spanish claims- Burn that Bell ...
... black as coal Burn all Boz's imitators ! Burn all tales without a head ! Burn a candle near the curtain Burn your Burns , and burn your bed ! Burn all wrongs that won't be righted , Poor poor Soup , and Spanish claims- Burn that Bell ...
Page 58
... Black , rusty grey , devoid of pelt , A shocking shape or beaten flat , Still there are joys that may be felt All round my hat , all round my hat ! The Quaker loves an ample brim , A hat that bows to no salam- And dear the beaver is to ...
... Black , rusty grey , devoid of pelt , A shocking shape or beaten flat , Still there are joys that may be felt All round my hat , all round my hat ! The Quaker loves an ample brim , A hat that bows to no salam- And dear the beaver is to ...
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Common terms and phrases
66 Straight A. H. BAILY agitation Black bottle Brill Bruges Burn butter called Calydonian boar chair chak copy CORNHILL cried Crooked Lane Cynic d'ye think DEAR CHARLES Ditto Doctor door Dowdum engravings ev'ry eyes Fips says fish FOUNDATIONE friends Frisby Ghents gown head heard Helen of Greece hole honour IRON ROAD BOOK Julius Cæsar lady LENOX letters look Lord Durham's return Ma'am Madam Mary Ann Talbot master Miss Filby Miss Hopkinson morning mother never night Number Obadiah groan pigs Plates Pogian Argus poor PUBLIC LIBRARY ACTOR Reform round my hat round the Square Rum Customer Sambo snake soon Sparmacity Sporting stick Stoke Pogis street sure There's THOMAS HOOD TILDEN tion took town tree verry vext wanted watch whale wish YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
Popular passages
Page ix - He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his father and his God.
Page vii - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds ; Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Page viii - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noon-tide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Page ix - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree ; Another came : nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next, with dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne, — Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page viii - Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die.
Page vii - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page viii - Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Page 94 - ... rug. Last night I had a curious dream, Miss Susan Bates...
Page 84 - Straight down the Crooked Lane, And all round the Square.
Page 35 - His breath like caller air ; His very foot has music in't As he comes up the stair. And will I see his face again ? And will I hear him speak ? I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought, In troth I'm like