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Updated: May 11, 2025
"Why, man, burn it up; it's the constable's sword and gun, and baggonit and cartridge-box; he can't do nothing without it; why, without the warrant, he's just like a cat without claws. He daresn't touch a man without a warrant."
Another thing of great interest requires to be specially mentioned. You may remember a work in which our dear and accomplished friend Lady Louisa condescended to take an oar, and which she has handled most admirably. This, with the Lives of the Novelists and some other fragments of my wreck, went ashore in Constable's, and were sold off to the highest bidder, viz., to Cadell, for himself and me.
"Certainly not," I replied firmly, and opening the door, I requested my unknown comrade to enter. I can still see in my mind's eye that constable's face. It looked unutterable things.
"Well Hodder didn't give you any intimation as to what he intended to do about that sort of thing, did he?" "What sort of thing?" "About the inside of Eldon Parr's cup, so to speak. And the inside of Wallis Plimpton's cup, and Everett Constable's cup, and Ferguson's cup, and Langmaid's. Did it ever strike you that, in St.
Running through Hodder's mind, a troubled current, were certain memories connected with Mrs. Warren. Was she the divorced daughter, or was she not? "But I was going to speak to you about Gertrude. She's had such a hard time, poor dear, my heart has bled for her." There was a barely perceptible tremor in Mrs. Constable's voice. "All that publicity, and the inevitable suffering connected with it!
Pepys thought Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream the most silly play he had ever seen, and Pepys was probably judging on the same grounds with J.B., though presumptuous enough to form conclusions against a very different work from any of mine. How if I send it to Lockhart by and by? I called to-day at Constable's; both partners seemed secure that Hurst and Robinson were to go on and pay.
Uncle Peter in his eagerness to quench the flames poured half a pitcher full of ice water down the back of Diggs' neck. "It ain't there, it's down my throat!" yelled the unfortunate Harmony, whereupon Uncle Peter poured the rest of the ice water over the constable's head.
It was one of Ned's strong points that he could control his passionate temper. Much as he longed to thrash this insolent brute he restrained himself. He desired most of all to get back to Queensland and knew that as no magistrate would take his word against a "constable's" as to provocation received, to retaliate now would keep him in Sydney for a month at least, perhaps six.
"Stay!" cried Wood, "this is a most perplexing business if you really are privy to the affair " "We'll talk of it to-morrow, Sir," returned Jackson, cutting him short. "In the mean time, with your permission, I'll just make a few minutes of our conversation." "As many as you please," replied Wood, walking towards the chimney-piece, and taking down a constable's, staff, which hung upon a nail.
Well, we laughed when we saw the three parties of white wolves ride out from Saint Denis; but I tell you, there was no laughing when they got among us. We were in the Constable's troop; and though, as far as I know, we were all pretty stout men-at-arms, and were four to one against them at least, we had little to boast of when the fight was over.
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