Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 19, 2025
During the progress of these negotiations, the nation, now confident of victory, stood not merely at attention but on the alert. 'I say, exclaimed Attwood at Birmingham and the phrase expressed the situation 'the people of England stand at this moment like greyhounds on the slip! Triumph was only a matter of time.
And as he came up Attwood asked, in such a tone as none had ever heard from his mouth before, "Combe, John Combe, what's done 's done, and oh, John, the pity of it, yet will ye still shake hands wi' me, John, afore ye go?"
He had not much to say for once in his life," here Master Shakspere smiled pityingly, "but he sent his love forever to his only daughter Cicely." Cicely was sitting up, listening with wide eyes, and eagerly nodded her head as if to say, "Of course." "He also begged of Nicholas Attwood that he would forgive him whatever wrong he had done him."
Although he had been so great and successful as a popular political leader, he made no "way" in Parliament; and soon after the riots of 1839 he retired, being succeeded by Mr. George Frederick Muntz. The last time I saw Mr. Attwood was in 1849, at the exhibition in Bingley House. He was then a thin, wasted, and decrepit old man. It was about this time that he retired from the bank.
"They came yestreen from London town by Oxford way to play in Stratford and at Coventry, and are at the Swan Inn with Master Geoffrey Inchbold oh, ever so many of them, in scarlet jerkins, and cloth of gold, and doublets of silk laced up like any lord! It is a very good company, they say." Mistress Attwood looked quickly at her husband. "What will they play?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am; I think I let her in the second time she came. An elderly person named Mrs. Attwood?" "That is the person I mean. Mrs. Attwood is Mr. Loscombe's housekeeper; not the housekeeper at his private residence, but the housekeeper at his offices in Lincoln's Inn. I promised to go and drink tea with her some evening this week, and I have been to-night.
"There's nought that I can say," said Simon Attwood, "but that I be sorry, and I want my son! Nick! Nick!" he faltered brokenly, "I be wrung for thee; will ye na come home just for thy mother's sake, Nick, if ye will na come for mine?" Nick started from his seat with a glad cry then stopped. "But Cicely?" he said. The tanner wrung his hat within his hands, and his face was dark with trouble.
But as the third day rolled around, about the middle of the afternoon the tanner himself sneaked out at the back door of his tannery in Southam's lane, and went up into the town. "Robin Getley," he asked at the guildschool door, "was my son wi' thee overnight?" "Nay, Master Attwood. Has he not come back?" "Come back? From where?" Robin hung his head. "From, where?" demanded the tanner.
But they would not be still; and Flapper forthwith produced his pistol-case, and opened it, in order that the duel might take place on the spot. There were no pistols there! "I beg your pardon," said Attwood, looking much confused; "I I took the pistols home with me to clean them!" I don't know what there was in his tone, or in the words, but we were sobered all of a sudden.
"Dost think me perjured Primus Magister Scholarum, Custos Morum, Quartus Custos Rotulorum? Pouf! I know my place. My oath's my oath. But, soft; enough here comes the boy. Who could have told a skylark in such popinjay attire?" And now a strange, new life began for Nicholas Attwood, in some things so grand and kind that he almost hated to dislike it.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking