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Thornhill made but one picture of the illustrious robber, but Cruikshank has made dozens, and the art of the engraver has multiplied them into thousands and tens of thousands, until the populace of England have become as familiar with Jack's features as they are with their own.
The man we are after now is Cargan. Miss Thornhill has agreed that it is best to prosecute. That eliminates her." "Did Miss Thornhill and Kendrick meet for the first time, after his exile, up-stairs in number seven?" Mr. Magee wanted to know. "Yes," answered Professor Bolton. "In one of his letters long ago Hayden told Kendrick he was engaged to the girl.
The truth is, T. J. and his family being Seceders, and consequently coming every Sunday to Thornhill Meeting-house, they were a good conveyance for the several maltsters and traders in their neighbourhood to transmit to post their notices, permits, &c. "But why all this tergiversation?
"It is against my maxim to write where I can speak. However, there is no option; I will write at once. Meanwhile, communicate with Thornhill; keep up his hopes; and be sure, at least, that he does not close with this greedy alderman before the day fixed for decision." "I have done all that already, and my letter is gone.
He then left us for a time, returned for "Faust," and remained in the Lyceum company for some years playing all Terriss's parts. Alexander had the romantic quality which was lacking in Terriss, but there was a kind of shy modesty about him which handicapped him when he played Squire Thornhill in "Olivia." "Be more dashing, Alec!" I used to say to him. "Well, I do my best," he said.
An old tradition is mentioned in the "Life of Nollekens" that the clay was at first brought as ballast in ships from China, and when the Orientals discovered what use was being made of it, they forbade its exportation, and the Englishmen had to be content with their own native clay. Nollekens says that his father worked at the pottery, and that Sir James Thornhill had furnished designs.
Something of the beauty of the Jane Thornhill, who thirty years before had stolen away with her lover to be married at the little village church of Paddington, must have yet remained. The interment, as all the world knows, took place in Chiswick Churchyard; a quiet funeral, with more tears than ostrich-plumes, more sorrow than black silk.
The dullest fellows may learn to be comical for a night or two When the morning arrived on which we were to entertain our young landlord, it may be easily supposed what provisions were exhausted to make an appearance. It may also be conjectured that my wife and daughters expanded their gayest plumage upon this occasion. Mr Thornhill came with a couple of friends, his chaplain, and feeder.
Thornhill having been there to inform them that their journey to town was entirely over. The two ladies, having heard reports of us from some malicious person, were that day set out for London. We were not long in finding who it was that had been so base as to asperse the character of a family so harmless as ours. One of our boys found a letter-case which we knew to belong to Mr. Burchell.
'Tell me, cried Sir William sternly, 'have you ever seen your master and that fellow drest up in his cloaths in company together? 'Yes, please your honour, cried the butler, 'a thousand times: he was the man that always brought him his ladies. 'How, interrupted young Mr Thornhill, 'this to my face! 'Yes, replied the butler, 'or to any man's face.
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