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Rockney and Mattock could be roused; but these English, slow to kindle, can't subside in a twinkling; they are for preaching on when they have once begun; betray the past engagement, and the ladies are chilled, and your wife puts you the pungent question: 'Did you avoid politics, Con? in the awful solitude of domestic life after a party.
Now, if only there had been freedom of discourse during the dinner hour, the ten disembarrassed minutes allotted to close it would have afforded time sufficient for hearty finishing blows and a soothing word or so to dear old innocent Mr. Rumford, and perhaps a kindly clap of the shoulder to John Mattock, no bad fellow at bottom. Rockney too was no bad fellow in his way.
There's Rockney. Do you know Rockney? He's the biggest single gun they've got, and he's mad for this country, but ask him about the public, you'll hear the menagerie-keeper's opinion of the brute that mauled his loins. 'Rockney, said Mr. Colesworth, 'has the tone of a man disappointed of the dictatorship. 'Then you do know Rockney! shouted Captain Con. 'That's the man in a neat bit of drawing.
All hope of a general action was over. 'That shall pass for the epitaph of the living, said Rockney. It was too late to catch at a trifle to strain it to a tussle. Con was obliged to subjoin: 'Inscribe it on the dungeon-door of tyranny. But the note was peaceful. He expressed a wish that the fog had cleared for him to see the stars of heaven before he went to bed, informing Mr.
Had not Rockney been given to a high expression of opinion, plain in fervour, he would often have been exposed bare to hostile shafts. Style cast her aegis over him. He wore an armour in which he could walk, run and leap-a natural style. The ardour of his temperament suffused the directness of his intelligence to produce it, and the two qualities made his weakness and strength.
Adister O'Donnell's household, for here was the coffee coming round, and Mattock and Rockney escaping without a scratch. 'There's hardly a day in the year when your scarlet mercenaries are not popping at niggers. Rockney had the flick on the cheek to his manhood now, it might be hoped. 'Our what? asked Mr. Rumford, honestly unable to digest the opprobrious term.
Adister O'Donnell's household, for here was the coffee coming round, and Mattock and Rockney escaping without a scratch. 'There's hardly a day in the year when your scarlet mercenaries are not popping at niggers. Rockney had the flick on the cheek to his manhood now, it might be hoped. 'Our what? asked Mr. Rumford, honestly unable to digest the opprobrious term.
It is not imaginable among comparative pygmies. But Rockney's combat with his fellow-politicians of the Press partook of the Swiftian against the Johnsonian in form. He was a steam ram that drove straight at the bulky broadside of the enemy. Premiers of parties might be Captains of the State for Rockney: Rockney was the premier's pilot, or woe to him.
The country has gone the wrong road, but it may yet cross over to the right one, when it perceives that we were prophetic. Compared with the bolts discharged at Bull by Rockney's artillery, Captain Con O'Donnell's were popgun-pellets. Only Rockney fired to chasten, Con O'Donnell for a diversion, to appease an animus.
Among the patriotic of stout English substance, who blew in the trumpet of the country, and were not bards of Bull to celebrate his firmness and vindicate his shiftings, Richard Rockney takes front rank.
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