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Updated: May 6, 2025
'Halloa! what are you up to, my dear? said Mr Codlin, raising his head, and yawning. Then observing that his companion was fast asleep, he added in an earnest whisper, 'Codlin's the friend, remember not Short. 'Making some nosegays, the child replied; 'I am going to try and sell some, these three days of the races. Will you have one as a present I mean?
"Codlin's my friend," she says, with a tear of gratitude a trickling down her little eye; "Codlin's my friend," she says "not Short. Short's very well," she says; "I've no quarrel with Short; he means kind, I dare say; but Codlin," she says, "has the feelings for my money, though he mayn't look it."
The sisters at the school they who were her friends, because themselves so friendless Mrs Jarley of the wax-work, Codlin, Short he found them all; and trust me, the man who fed the furnace fire was not forgotten. Kit's story having got abroad, raised him up a host of friends, and many offers of provision for his future life.
It was filled with Orleans plums, of which he was eating with uncommon satisfaction. Liking variations of flavour in fruit, he occasionally diversified the plums with a sour codlin apple, a dozen or so of which he had stowed away in his trousers' pockets. Bob stood at a respectful distance, his eyes wandering to the tempting collation, and his mouth watering.
When my installation in the role of invalid took place, one Miss Beecham was away in Melbourne, and the other not well enough to come and see me, but Harold came regularly to inquire how I was progressing. He always brought me a number of beautiful apples. This kindness was because the Caddagat orchard had been too infested with codlin moth for grannie to save any last season.
Repeating these words with great emotion, Mr Codlin rubbed the bridge of his nose with his coat-sleeve, and shaking his head mournfully from side to side, left the single gentleman to infer that, from the moment when he lost sight of his dear young charge, his peace of mind and happiness had fled.
Mr Codlin, still doomed to contemplate the harsh realities of existence, was packing among his linen the candle-ends which had been saved from the previous night's performance; while his companion received the compliments of all the loungers in the stable-yard, who, unable to separate him from the master-mind of Punch, set him down as next in importance to that merry outlaw, and loved him scarcely less.
"Halloa! what are you up to, my dear?" said Mr. Codlin, raising his head and yawning. "Making some nosegays," the child replied; "I'm going to try to sell some. Will you have one? as a present, I mean." Mr. Codlin stuck it in his buttonhole with an air of ineffable complacency, and laid himself down again. As the morning wore on, the tents assumed a more brilliant appearance.
Furnished with slippers and dry garments, and overpowered by the warmth and comfort of the room and the fatigue they had undergone, Nelly and the old man had not long taken seats in the warm chimney-corner when they fell asleep. "Who are they?" whispered the landlord. Short and Codlin shook their heads. "They're no harm," said Short.
Mr Codlin followed with a willing mind, and soon found that the landlord had not commended his preparations without good reason. A mighty fire was blazing on the hearth and roaring up the wide chimney with a cheerful sound, which a large iron cauldron, bubbling and simmering in the heat, lent its pleasant aid to swell.
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