Handley Cross; Or, Mr. Jorrocks's Hunt, Issue 71Bradbury and Evans, 1854 - 550 pages |
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added afore appearance applause ar's arter Arterxerxes Barnington beautiful Belinda Benjamin better Bill Binjimin Blash Bloomer boots Bowerbank Bowker Brantinghame Captain Doleful chap Charley cheers coat continued Coram Street dear dinner dogs Doleful's door dress Dumpling exclaimed eyes Fleeceall fox-hunter gentlemen give grinning guineas hand Handley Cross Spa head Hessian boots Heveland holloa honour horse hounds hunting huntsman inquired James Pigg John Jorrocks Jorrocks's jury ladies learned friend legs length looking master mind Miss Moonface morning Muleygrubs never nose nothin observed Orlando Smith osses ounds pack Pigg's proceeded repeated replied Pigg Reynard ride roared round scent servant soon sort sport Stobbs tell there's thing thought turn Turtle Doves unting waistcoat werry whip whiskers woice Xerxes
Popular passages
Page 377 - Would he were fatter! but I fear him not: Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men; he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music...
Page 390 - We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow ; Our wiser sons no doubt will think us so.
Page 275 - Now, where are all your sorrows and your cares, ye gloomy souls ! or where your pains and aches, ye complaining ones ! one halloo has dispelled them all. What a crash they make ! and echo seemingly takes pleasure to repeat the sound. The astonished traveller forsakes his road, lured by its melody ; the listening ploughman now stops his plough ; and every distant shepherd neglects his flock, and...
Page 410 - Unting is all that's worth living for - all time is lost wot is not spent in 'unting — it is like the hair we breathe - if we have it not we die - it's the sport of kings, the image of war without its guilt, and only five-and-twenty per cent of its danger.
Page 438 - Though my many faults defaced me, Could no other arm be found Than the one which once embraced me, To inflict a cureless wound! Yet - oh, yet - thyself deceive not Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench, believe not, Hearts can thus be torn away...
Page 455 - An idiot, or natural fool, is one that hath had no understanding from his nativity ; and therefore is by law presumed never likely to attain any.
Page 63 - ... points their ideas differ from ours; their condition does not admit of much refinement — of any great advance in science or art. They cannot be said to have any religion worthy of the name, yet there is perhaps no more moral people on the face of the earth ; none among whom there is less crime ; and it is, perhaps, not going too far to say that there is, as far as I can judge, no race of men which has more fully availed itself of its opportunities.