Short Stories: A Magazine of Select Fiction, Band 11

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current literature Publishing Company, 1892
 

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Seite 499 - right," and off they start. Shawls are pulled up, coat-collars are readjusted, the pavement ceases, the houses disappear; and they are once again dashing along the open road, with the fresh clear air blowing in their faces, and gladdening their very hearts within them. Such was the progress of Mr. Pickwick and his friends by the
Seite 504 - Vere does the mince-pies go, young opium-eater ? " said Mr. Weller to the fat boy as he assisted in laying out such articles of consumption as had not been duly arranged on the previous night. The fat boy pointed to the destination of the pies. "Werygood," said Sam; "stick a bit o
Seite 512 - good we'll part. In his fine, honest pride he scorns to hide One jot of his hard-weather scars ; They're no disgrace, for there's much the same trace On the cheeks of our bravest tars. Then again I'll sing till the roof doth ring And it echoes from wall to wall— To the stout old wight fair welcome to-nigh
Seite 504 - damn that boy, he's gone to sleep." "No, I ain't, sir," replied the fat boy, starting up from a remote corner, where, like the patron saint of fat boys—the immortal Horner—he had been devouring a Christmas pie; though not with the coolness and deliberation which characterized that young gentleman's proceedings. " Fill Mr. Pickwick's glass." "Yes, sir.
Seite 511 - game at snap-dragon, and when fingers enough were burned with that and all the raisins were gone, they sat down by the huge fire of blazing logs to a substantial supper and a mighty bowl of wassail, something smaller than an ordinary wash-house copper, in which the
Seite 510 - hearty, wen all of a sudden the little boy leaves hold of the pickpocket's arm and rushes headforemost straight into the old gen'lm'n's stomach, and for a moment doubles him right up vith the pain. 'Murder! ' says the old gen'lm'n. 'All right, sir,' says the pickpocket, a-wisperin
Seite 503 - the old lady's face called up a thought of old times, or whether the old lady was touched by Mr. Pickwick's affectionate good-nature, or whatever was the cause, she was fairly melted; so she threw herself on her granddaughter's neck, and all the little illhumor evaporated in a gush of silent tears.
Seite 509 - There warn'ta pickpocket in all London as didn't take a pull at that chain, but the chain 'ud never break, and the watch 'ud never come out, so they soon got tired o' dragging such a heavy old gen'lm'n along the pavement, and he'd go home and laugh till
Seite 503 - him, and bestowing a kiss upon her forehead, bade her sit down on the little stool at her grandmother's feet. Whether the expression of her countenance as it was raised toward the old lady's face called up a thought of old times, or whether the old lady was touched by Mr. Pickwick's affectionate

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