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Updated: June 25, 2025
The man stopped, apparently rooted to the spot. He surveyed the Bishop with a glassy but determined stare from head to foot. Then he looked earnestly at the bicycle, and finally, in perfect silence, began to inspect the Bishop again. 'Eh? he said at length. 'Can you tell me the way to Anfield? 'Anfield? 'Yes. How do I get there?
They gave a heartfelt sigh to the vanity of the rich and the powerful; and pursued a path where they hoped to meet with virtue and happiness. They arrived at Anfield. Possessed by apprehensions, which his uncle's funeral had served to increase, young Henry, as he entered the well-known village, feared every sound he heard would convey information of Rebecca's death.
Yes, that be the way t' Old Inns. Gethryn nobly refrained from rending the speaker limb from limb. 'I don't want to know the way to Old Inns, he said desperately. 'Where I want to get is Anfield. Anfield, you know. Which way do I go? 'Anfield? said the man. Then a brilliant flash of intelligence illumined his countenance. 'Whoy, Anfield be same road as Old Inns.
A train left Anfield for London at three-thirty. It was now a little past two. On a bicycle he could do it easily, and get back with his prize by about five, if he rode hard. In that case all would be well. Only three of the School wickets had fallen, and the pitch was playing as true as concrete.
Four o'clock in the afternoon of May 2d is the time announced, and Edge Hill Church is the appointed place, where Mr. Lawrence , Fletcher, of the Anfield Bicycle Club, and a number of other Liverpool wheelmen, have volunteered to meet and accompany me some distance out of the city. Several of the Liverpool daily papers have made mention of the affair.
Whether in town or country, it is but justice to acknowledge that in her own person she was strictly chaste; but in the country she extended that chastity even to the persons of others; and the young woman who lost her virtue in the village of Anfield had better have lost her life.
He was born, my lord, about sixteen years ago, at Anfield, one summer a morning, and carried by your cousin, Mr. Henry Norwynne, to Mr. Rymer's, the curate there; and I swore whose child he was before the dean, and I did not take a false oath. Indeed, indeed, my lord, I did not.
The poor can hear, can talk, sometimes can reflect; servants will tell their equals how they live in town; listeners will smile and shake their heads; and thus hypocrisy, instead of cultivating, destroys every seed of moral virtue. The arrival of Lord Bendham's family at Anfield announced to the village that the dean's would quickly follow. Rebecca's heart bounded with joy at the prospect.
He could not have gone far, for he could not have been gone much more than half an hour. Again, from his knowledge of his uncle's character, he deduced that he had in all probability not gone to the nearest station, Horton. At Horton one had to wait hours at a time for a train. Farnie must have made his way on his bicycle straight for the junction, Anfield, fifteen miles off by a good road.
The majority of my escort are members of the Anfield Club, who have the enviable reputation of being among the hardest road-riders in England, several members having accomplished over two hundred miles within the twenty-four hours; and I am informed that Mr.
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