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Collingwood thought a moment. “Well,” he said, “you had such fun in soaking me that I wasn’t going to give you the additional satisfaction of seeing me cry baby.” “I’ll learn something about boys sometime—if you fellows will keep on educating me,” observed Irving. “I think your performance of yesterday deserves about a sheet; we’ll make it that.” He scribbled a note and handed it to the boy.
I am not unmindful of Cooper and Hawthorne, of Longfellow, of Lowell and of Poe, but speak of Irving as the pioneer American man of letters, and of Mark Twain and Bret Harte as American literature's most conspicuous and original modern examples.
His manner was very quiet and gentle. "In quietness and confidence shall be your strength," says the Psalmist. That was always like Henry Irving.
So they collected Dennison and Smythe and Allison and Carroll and Scarborough, and marched up the corridor—humorously tramping in step—to Irving’s door. There Westby, newspaper in hand, knocked. Irving opened the door. “Mr.
At Annan, looking at the statue of Carlyle's friend, Edward Irving, in the broad High Street, we came back to the subject of Doctor James, and I heard for the first time the real truth at the bottom of the bad gossip. We had got down from the car to look at the statue, and read what it said on the pedestal.
Irving was sitting at my desk, with his back to the door, when Mr. Mr. Remembering his "Mr. Sharp, Mr. Blunt, Mr. Blunt, Mr. Cooper, here is Mr. Irving."
"They were talkin' about doing somethin' last night, and the man and Jim went out together." "You don't know what they proposed to do?" "No just somethin', anything they could." "What is your name, little boy?" Hazel asked. "Glen" was the answer. "Glen what?" "Glen Graham." "Isn't it Glen Irving?" The boy looked doubtfully at his interrogator. "I don't know," he replied slowly. "I guess not."
Peter Aretine is said to have laid the Princes of Europe under contribution by penning satires against them: so Mr. Irving keeps the public in awe by insulting all their favourite idols.
Her sad death at the age of seventeen was perhaps the greatest unhappiness of his life. He never married, but held her memory sacred as long as he lived. In 1803 he was invited by Mr. Hoffman to go with him to Montreal and Quebec. Irving kept a journal during this expedition, and it shows what a rough time travelers had in those days. Part of the way they sailed in a scow on Black River.
And after Grandma and Mary Joe had stopped being surprised he and Grandma came upstairs to look at me, not meaning to wake me up till morning. But I woke right up and saw father. I tell you I just sprang at him." "With a hug like a bear's," said Mr. Irving, putting his arms around Paul's shoulder smilingly. "I hardly knew my boy, he had grown so big and brown and sturdy."
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