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Updated: May 29, 2025
"My son goes to Spratt's," she would say to her confidential friends. "All the young men go to Spratt's after their balls. It is de rigeur, my dear; and they play billiards as they used to play macao and hazard in Mr. Fox's time. Yes, my dear father often told me that they sate up always until nine o'clock the next morning with Mr.
Now, horseradish leaves are very smarty and peppery, you know, almost like mustard, and when they got in the fox's eyes they made him so he couldn't see, and they hurt him, too. Then I wish you could have heard him howl. No, on second thought, I'm glad you couldn't hear him, for it might scare you.
Fox's praise cannot augment it, nor his censure diminish it. SIR JOSHUA. 'But his friends may suspect they had too great a partiality for him. JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, the partiality of his friends was always against him. It was with difficulty we could give him a hearing.
"I remember your honour very well," writes a correspondent years after, "when you came newly out of France, and wore pantaloon breeches." This journey affected Penn all the rest of his life. It restrained him from following the absurder singularities of his associates. George Fox's leather suit he would have found impossible.
"Why, I haven't been anywhere near your orchard!" "So?" Mrs. Fox looked bewildered. "Then then how did you get hurt?" she faltered. "Why, Mr. Wicks and I were cleaning out pa's old shotgun when it went off accidentally, and I got a couple of the shot in my forearm," answered Harry Smith promptly. The answer took away Mrs. Fox's breath.
And there he stayed for a long, long time, until he felt sure that it was quite safe for him to venture down upon the ground again. He had come upon Tommy Fox's burrow! And if there was one hole in the ground into which he had no wish to go, that was it. For Tommy Fox was no friend of his.
But the louder it grew, the more resolutely did Fox go on with the work which he had begun. His old friends could not conceive what had possessed him. "I could forgive," said the Duke of Cumberland, "Fox's political vagaries; but I am quite confounded by his inhumanity. Surely he used to be the best natured of men."
On coming in at the door of the square room, with its sanded floor, its old desk, its spare bed in the corner, and its cherry table with wavy outlines, which had belonged to Colonel Fox's mother, Dorcas found the cloth already laid, and the bonnets and cardinals of half a dozen old friends on the bed.
But you know it will do you good; you know what I say is true. You've no right to club the natural and healthy inclinations out of yourself. The day for fanatics and dippy, dotty flagellants is past. Fox's martyrs are out of date. The man who grabs life in both fists and twists the essence out of it, counts.
He had been recently sobered, so Comyn confided; which I afterwards discovered meant married. Charles Fox's word for the same was fallen. And I remembered that Jack had told me it was to visit Lady Carlisle at Castle Howard that Dorothy was going when she heard of my disappearance. Comyn's other guest was Mr. Topham Beauclerk, the macaroni friend of Dr. Johnson.
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