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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Well, by the livin', Dinny, I dunna where you get all this deep readin'." "Sure he gets it all in the Dixonary." "Bedad, that Dixonary must be a fine book entirely, to thim that undherstand it." "But, Dinny, will you tell Phadrick the Case of Conscience atween Barny Branagan's two goats an' Parra Ghastha's mare?"
"For Becky Sharp," answered Jemima, trembling very much, and blushing over her withered face and neck, as she turned her back on her sister. "For Becky Sharp. She's going, too." "MISS JEMIMA!" exclaimed Miss Pinkerton, in the largest capitals. "Are you in your senses? Replace the Dixonary in the closet, and never venture to take such a liberty in future."
"It's some sandwiches, my dear," she called to Amelia. "You may be hungry, you know; ... and Becky Becky Sharp here's a book for you, that my sister that is, I Johnson's Dixonary, you know; ... you mustn't leave us without that! Good-bye! Drive on, coachman! God bless you!" And the kind creature retreated into the garden, overcome with emotion.
When Miss Sharp had performed the heroical act mentioned in the last chapter, and had seen the Dixonary, flying over the pavement of the little garden, fall at length at the feet of the astonished Miss Jemima, the young lady's countenance, which had before worn an almost livid look of hatred, assumed a smile that perhaps was scarcely more agreeable, and she sank back in the carriage in an easy frame of mind, saying "So much for the Dixonary; and, thank God, I'm out of Chiswick."
"Have you completed all the necessary preparations incident to Miss Sedley's departure, Miss Jemima?" asked Miss Pinkerton, that majestic lady, the friend of the famous literary man, Dr. Johnson, the author of the great Dixonary of the English language, called commonly the great Lexicographer.
Being commanded by her elder sister to get The Dixonary from the cupboard, Miss Jemima had extracted two copies of the book from the receptacle in question. When Miss Pinkerton had finished the inscription in the first, Jemima, with rather a dubious and timid air handed her the second. "For whom is this, Miss Jemima?" said Miss Pinkerton, with awful coldness.
It's a symbol? I call it a tomfoolery for the dead-alive to wear it, that's a widow and not a widow, and haven't got a name for what she is in any Dixonary, I've looked, my dear, and" she spread out her arms "Johnson haven't got a name for me!" At this impressive woe Mrs. Berry's voice quavered into sobs. Lucy spoke gentle words to the poor outcast from Johnson.
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