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Updated: June 25, 2025
"I have only seen Mark once for five minutes since he came back," added Phoebe. "When was that?" asked Carrissima. "Last week " "And," suggested Lawrence, "I don't imagine he would have taken the trouble then if he hadn't wanted you to do something for him." "You see, Carrissima," Phoebe explained, "Dr. Bunbury's wife and daughter are coming on a visit to London for a few weeks.
Mark remained there two years and left at Christmas; after spending a few weeks idly in London he went to take charge of Doctor Bunbury's practice in Yorkshire, principally for the sake of being near to his own people, and having passed two months, more occupied by sport than patients, returned this afternoon. "Why didn't you come in time for dinner?" demanded Phoebe, as he kissed her cheek.
Bunbury's caricatures commence as early as his foreign tour, though some of the best refer to his later military life in England; especially to the time when he was in camp at Coxheath, during the troubled days of the American War.
It was situated in William Street, where the vast Law Courts are now; and Davy was at the door when it was opened next morning, the first claimant for money. A clerk took his paper, looked over it, smiled, and said it was of no use whatever without Bunbury's signature.
Bunbury's caricatures of military subjects naturally connect themselves with the period when he was actively connected with the Suffolk County Militia, more especially when, in 1778, he was in camp at Coxheath at the time of the war in America.
To this class, too, belongs Bunbury's famous "Propagation of a Lie," published in 1787. Bath, we may feel sure, would have offered in those days every facility of this nature, if required; and it may be fairly assumed that the mise-en-scène for this print was the same as that of the "Long Minuet." From "Dear me! You don't say so!" we proceed through the stages of "Heigh ho!" "O fye!" "Indeed!"
Sally could not help wondering whether things were going particularly wrong to-day, or whether this was one of Mr. Bunbury's ordinary mornings. "Miss Hobson!" The action of the drama had just brought that emotional lady on left centre and had taken her across to the desk which stood on the other side of the stage.
Bunbury's valet were called in, who, however, performed his functions so indifferently that poor Goldsmith's appearance became the signal for a general smile." This was wicked waggery, especially when it was directed to mar all the attempts of the unfortunate poet to improve his personal appearance, about which he was at all times dubiously sensitive, and particularly when among the ladies.
She was at Lady Bunbury's drum, whither I had gone in another fruitless chase after Mr. Marmaduke. Dr. Warner's verse was the laughter of the company. And, greatly to my annoyance, in the circumstances, I was made a hero of, and showered with three times as many invitations as I could accept. The whole story got abroad, even to the awakening of the duke in Covent Garden. And that clownish Mr.
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