Punch, Svazky 8–9

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Punch Publications Limited, 1845
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Strana 217 - The times have been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end ; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.
Strana 109 - I'm alive, if it isn't St. Swithin's day! Do you hear it against the windows? Nonsense; you don't impose upon me. You can't be asleep with such a shower as that! Do you hear it, I say? Oh, you do hear it! Well, that's a pretty flood, I think, to last for six weeks; and no stirring all the time out of the house.
Strana 109 - But I know why you lent the umbrella. Oh, yes; I know very well. I was going out to tea at dear mother's tomorrow,— you knew that; and you did it on purpose.
Strana 109 - I know that walk to-morrow will be the death of me. But that's what you want — then you may go to your club, and do as you like — and then nicely my poor dear children will be used — but then, sir, then you'll be happy.
Strana 158 - But it's just like you ; I can't speak, that you don't try to insult me. Once, I used to say you were the best creature living : now, you get quite a fiend. Do let you rest ? No, I won't let you rest. It's the only time I have to talk to you, and you shall hear me.
Strana 109 - I should like to know how the children are to go to school to-morrow. They shan't go through such weather ; I am determined.
Strana 244 - THE night was stormy and dark, The town was shut up in sleep : Only those were abroad who were out on a lark, Or those who'd no beds to keep. I pass'd through the lonely street, The wind did sing and blow ; I could hear the policeman's feet Clapping to and fro. There stood a potato-man In the midst of all the wet ; He stood with his 'tato-can In the lonely Harmarket.
Strana 199 - Oh, very well: women remember things you never think of: poor souls! they've good cause to do so. Ten years ago, I was sitting up for you, — there now, I'm not going to say anything to vex you, only do let me speak: ten years ago, I was...
Strana 109 - Indeed, Mr. Caudle, I shall wear 'em. No, sir, I'm not going out a dowdy to please you or anybody else. Gracious knows, it isn't often that I step over the threshold ; indeed, I might as well be a slave at once — better, I should say. But when I do go out, Mr. Caudle, I choose to go as a lady. Oh, that rain — if it isn't enough to break in the windows. " Ugh, I do look forward with dread for to-morrow.

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