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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Then the sooner I'm off the better," cried Wood; "what's to pay, David?" "Don't affront me, Owen, by asking such a question," returned the landlord; "hadn't you better stop and finish the bottle?" "Not a drop more," replied Wood. "Enough's as good as a feast. Good night!"
"I say, Morny," cried Rodd, "enough's as good as a feast." "Yes, sir," cried Joe, "and we have got enough and the feast to come, for these look as if they'd be good. Shall we put ashore?"
I hope you are wrong about Lottie," Janice said quickly. "The dear little thing! She seemed very bright to-night," she added, with more cheerfulness in her tone than she really felt. "Say, you don't want that violin stole, Hopewell," said Mr. Massey reflectively. "Enough's been stole in Polktown to-day, I should say, to last us one spell."
'Enough's as good as a faist, yer honour, cried the stranger, skipping from side to side, and evading the blows very skilfully; 'pon my sowl, yer honour 'ud do for a fair or a wake. 'Tis madam as has the heart an' the conscience for the poor Irish, an' miss, too, asthore!
He'll be happy and contented, for people are always happy with simple living, so long as they don't know about any other kind of living." "I thinks Abel lives fine now, and we lives fine," ventured Jimmy. "Abel's house is fine and warm, and so is ours." "Aye," said Skipper Ed, "'tis that. 'Tis that; and enough's a-plenty. Enough's a-plenty." They walked along in silence for a little while.
"How I wish," said Dick, with a sad look at the toast, "that we might go on eatin' for ever." "Is it right, daddy," asked Tom, during a pause, "to eat with all our might?" "Certainly, my boy, till you've had enough. After that it's wrong to eat at all. `Enough's as good as a feast, you know. Now, Old Moll, one more cup to wash it all down, and then we'll go in for a confabulation round the fire."
Being a skilful boxer, which his antagonist was not, he did what he had to do neatly and with commendable despatch. Down, up; down, up; down a third time, and then the bystanders interfered. "Hold on!" "That'll do!" "Don't you see he's drunk?" "Enough's as good as a feast let him go." Winton's blood was up, but he desisted, breathing threatenings. Whereat Biggin shouldered his way into the circle.
Gad! what a handsome woman she was when I saw her first! Well, lads, let's join the ladies: I'm none of your steady-going old topers. Enough's as good's a feast that's my motto. And I can't write my name on a slate with my knuckles, either." And so they went into the large, dimly-lit red chamber where the women were having tea round the blazing fire.
He could not understand this; for with the dead rest across the stump, he thought he was holding the sights against the black. Mr. Kincaid watched him amusedly. The small figure crouched over the stump was so ridiculously in earnest. At the tenth shot he put the cover on the box of ammunition. "Aren't we going to shoot any more?" cried Bobby, disappointed. "Enough's enough," said Mr. Kincaid.
After a moment's hesitation, he continued, with a forced grin, that gave an atrocious expression to his whole countenance: "Well now, you officers are playing a purty considerable spry trick it's a good lark, I calculate but you know, as the saying is, enough's as good as a feast. Do tell me, Mr.
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