The Old Hall, Or, Our Hearth and Homestead, Svazek 1T.C. Newby, 1845 |
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appeared asked the Squire badger bird-lime Blossom broiled fowl brow ceiling cheeks cheerful comfortable companion continued Mike cried dear ding-dong door ears Edward Dixon ejaculated John exclaimed John eyes fingers gave giving glass hallooed hand Hardy's Hark head hear heard heart Heaven hookah hound huntsman inquired James James Sykes Job's John Hardy John's laugh lips look loud Master Master Tom merry Mike Crouch Mike's mingled mirth mushroom sauce Nancy never nutmeg observed Mike Peter Parkins quired razor-grinder rejoined John rejoined Mike remarked replied John replied Mike resumed Mike returned John returned Mike reynard ring round scarcely shouted smile smoke Sniphey sound spoke squabby cob Squire's stranger stream stretched suppose Sykes Sykes's taking Tally-ho tell there's thick thought threw tion Tobias Smith Toby tone tongue turned voice waistcoat whipper-in wink younker
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Strana 45 - True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ; Which is as thin of substance as the air ; And more inconstant than the wind...
Strana 189 - Let me play the Fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come ; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
Strana 270 - O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down. And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
Strana 1 - It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Strana 243 - When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit, tu-who, A merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Strana 3 - England, with all thy faults, I love thee still — My country ! and, while yet a nook is left Where English minds and manners may be found, Shall be constrain'd to love thee.
Strana 179 - ... minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, week by week, month by month, year by year...
Strana 134 - I am not saying we ought to tell the veteran what he ought to do, or what he ought not to do...
Strana 223 - ... faded, of scenes of former times ; yet that in which the Squire and John Hardy were ensconced, on the shortest day of the year, did not lack a comfortable...
Strana 8 - ... the crumbling hand of time, and the ravages of tempests and the storms of ages. A dried fosse surrounded the building, on the banks of which many a garden flower grew, and tall elms now towered from the very bed ; convincing proof that it must have been a long time ago since it had been applied for the...