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Updated: April 30, 2025
It was almost too spirited for him, and I was once afraid it would run away with him; but I could not do anything to help him but pull up my own horse short and call to him to do the same.... "Believe me, my dear Nicholson, "Your affectionate friend, "Francis W. Newman." This letter was written from Escot, Ottery St.
"That it never loses sight of the loaves and fishes," said Mr Escot. "It never loses sight of any point of sound doctrine," said the reverend doctor. The coachman now informed them their time was elapsed; nor could all the pathetic remonstrances of the reverend divine, who declared he had not half breakfasted, succeed in gaining one minute from the inexorable Jehu.
"I perceive," said Mr Escot, "you have a very deep insight into things, and can, therefore, perhaps, facilitate the resolution of a question, concerning which, though I have little doubt on the subject, I am desirous of obtaining the most extensive and accurate information." The sexton scratched his head, the language of Mr Escot not being to his apprehension quite so luminous as his own.
I beg leave to observe, sir, that my language was perfectly perspicuous, and etymologically correct; and, I conceive, I have demonstrated what I shall now take the liberty to say in plain terms, that all your opinions are extremely absurd. Mr Escot. I should be sorry, sir, to advance any opinion that you would not think absurd. Mr Panscope. Death and fury, sir Mr Escot. Say no more, sir.
"I am perfectly aware of it," said Mr Escot. "True, true," continued the sexton; "put to pe sure, Owen Thomas of Morfa-Bach will have it that one summer evening when he went over to Cwm Cynfael in Meirionnydd, apout some cattles he wanted to puy he saw a strange figure pless us! with five horns!
Saying these words, he put a dollar into the hands of the sexton, who instantly stood spellbound by the talismanic influence of the coin, while Mr Escot walked off in triumph with the skull of Cadwallader. When Mr Escot entered the breakfast-room he found the majority of the party assembled, and the little butler very active at his station.
Mr Jenkison. Mr Escot. Not if you should impart to him the true nature of both, by laying open to his view the springs of action in both parties. Mr Jenkison.
"You have been sexton here," continued Mr Escot, in the language of Hamlet, "man and boy, forty years." The sexton turned pale. The period Mr Escot named was so nearly the true one, that he began to suspect the personage before him of being rather too familiar with Hugh Llwyd's sable visitor. Recovering himself a little, he said, "Why, thereapouts, sure enough."
"I admit," said Mr Foster, "there are many things that may, and therefore will, be changed for the better." "Not on the present system," said Mr Escot, "in which every change is for the worse." "In matters of taste I am sure it is," said Mr Gall: "there is, in fact, no such thing as good taste left in the world." "Oh, Mr Gall!" said Miss Philomela Poppyseed, "I thought my novel "
I can readily conceive, sir, ye wou'd na wullingly encoorage ony dealer in panegeeric: but, frae the manner in which ye speak o' the first creetics an' scholars o' the age, I shou'd think ye wou'd hae a leetle mair predilaction for deefamation. Mr Escot. I have no predilection, sir, for defamation.
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