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"If it were my girl I'd let her know all about it," Ribbs the butcher had said in the bosom of his own family. When it was found that Mr. Surtees the curate was not to be the fortunate man, the matter was more inexplicable than ever.
Oh for a lusty storme to bury all Their hopes in the waves now! one good swelling Gust Would breake their ribbs in pieces. Jo. No witches abroad? Buz. I see, I see, I see! Enter Buzzano above. All. What? Buz. Nay, I cannot tell what yet: Something it is; I thinke it be a Towne. Hen. Some Iland in the Sea! Buz. It swims on the water. Jo. 'Tis the fleete: come they this way? Buz.
Had they meant us We should have heard their message in loud Cannon Before this time. Bust. I am of that opinion. Ten. But Don Fernando and Bustamente, call to mind The time hath bene, when we supposed too The season past, they have saluted us With more then friendly Bulletts; tore the ribbs Of our Towne up, made every house too hott For the Inhabitants; had a spoyle of all, Spight of our hearts.
But Detectives Burke and Duvaney ascertain from one of their "stool pigeons" that Michael Ribbs, alias Padlock Mike, is in funds that he and his "moll," who may be his wife or his mistress, are enjoying the fruits of Mike's labors. And as Mike's specialty is burglary, Chief Manning rightfully decides that he is responsible for one or more of the recent robberies.
The castle groanes at heart; Her strongest ribbs are bruizd with battering Cannons, And she hath tane into her bowells fire Enough to melt her. Ma. My Lord came bravely up to her & shewd a spirit That commands danger; his honorable example Gave us new hearts. Sol. Faith, give the Spanyards their due; they entertaind us handsomely with hott meat; 'twas no cold welcome. Pike.
I to church, where our parson Mills made a good sermon. Then home, and dined well on some good ribbs of beef roasted and mince pies; only my wife, brother, and Barker, and plenty of good wine of my owne, and my heart full of true joy; and thanks to God Almighty for the goodness of my condition at this day.
Ribbs?" said the Attorney. "I didn't make the late squire's will; and if I did you don't suppose I should tell you." "I'm told that the next is Peter Morton," said Fred Botsey. "He's something in a public office up in London." "It won't go to him," said Fred's brother. "That old lady has relations of her own who have had their mouths open for the last forty years"
"If he didn't feel satisfied with what his lordship offered him, why couldn't he ask his lordship to refer the matter to a couple of farmers who understood it?" "It's the spirit of the thing," said Mr. Ribbs, from his place on the sofa. "It's a hodious spirit." "That's just it, Mr. Ribbs," said Harry Stubbings. "It's all meant for opposition.
I'm told he came across Bean when he was ferreting about the other day, and that Bean gave him quite as good as he brought." "I say he's a spy," said Ribbs the butcher from his seat on the sofa. "I hates a spy." Soon after that Mr. Masters left the room and Larry Twentyman followed him.
Take fifty pound; I like to see you come cringing and begging for it. Whenever I see him in a VERY public place, I take my change for my money. I digg him in the ribbs, or slap his padded old shoulders. I call him, 'Bareacres, my old buck! and I see him wince. It does my art good. "I'm in low sperits. A disagreeable insadent has just occurred. Lady Pump, the banker's wife, asked me to dinner.
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