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Updated: June 3, 2025
All the week long Mary Ann was toiling up and down the stairs or sweeping them, making beds or puddings, polishing boots or fire-irons. Holidays were not in Mary Ann's calendar; and if Sunday ever found her on her knees, it was only when she was scrubbing out the kitchen. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy; it had not, apparently, made Mary Ann a bright girl.
We'll begin at "The Three Tuns," then call at "The Blue Posts," look in at "The Dog and Fire-irons," and finish up at "The Shakespeare's Head." What was it we used to troll? 'From tavern to tavern Youth passes along, With an armful of girl And a heart-full of song. 'Hush! I cried in terror; 'it is impossible. I cannot. Come to my club instead. But he shook his head.
I hope to goodness the poor old chap's got some encouragement to-day, if nothing else, for he's fearfully down on his luck, and no mistake. And, between me and those fire-irons there, I'm getting almost afraid to let him out of my sight, for fear he'll go and do something foolish though, to be sure, he's hardly that kind of fellow, when one comes to think of it.
After supper he kept stretching out his legs on the fender, indulging in scraps of quotations from plays which were Greek to me, and more than once knocked over the fire-irons, making a hideous row poor Carrie already having a bad head-ache. When he went, he said, to our surprise: "I will come to-morrow and bring my Irving make-up."
Turly dressed himself in a few of Granny's best oriental embroideries, and armed himself with the brass fire-irons. "It's war, you know!" he explained to Terry. "Play Malbrook again. But I'm not going to be killed, I can tell you. I'd just like to see anybody trying to do it." "Oh, Turly, you must be killed, because you have no helmet! Oh, I know where I can get you one!"
"There would be a terrible dust-up," smirked Winter. "Possibly; but it would be a fight for life or death. No half measures. A matter of decanters, fire-irons, chairs. Let us return to the hotel." Whilst Hume went to summon the others, Brett seated himself at a table and wrote: "A curious chapter of accidents happened in Northumberland Avenue yesterday. Early in the morning, Mr.
One day a cartload of chairs; the next a waggonful of fenders, fire-irons, and glass and crockery a quantity of supplies, in a word, he poured into the place. There were a yellow curtain in the back drawing-room, and green curtains in the front. The carpet was an immense bargain, bought dirt cheap, sir, at a sale in Euston Square. He was against the purchase of a carpet for the stairs.
Would I step inside and wait a minute? I would and did, but it was more minutes than one that I was kept languishing in an interior as dingy as the outside of the house. I had time to take the whole thing in. There were massive remnants of deservedly unfashionable furniture. The sofa I can still see in my mind's eye, and the steel fire-irons, and the crystal chandelier.
This ruddy shine issued from the great dining-room, whose two- leaved door stood open, and showed a genial fire in the grate, glancing on marble hearth and brass fire-irons, and revealing purple draperies and polished furniture, in the most pleasant radiance.
It was very clean and neat: the ornamental windows were hung with little white curtains; the floor was spotless; the grate and fire-irons were burnished bright, and the fire burnt clear. Bessie sat on the hearth, nursing her last-born, and Robert and his sister played quietly in a corner. "Bless you! I knew you would come!" exclaimed Mrs. Leaven, as I entered.
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