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I'm afraid you expect a beautiful POEM, Though I make a long and tedious proem, But great and dreadful are my fears, No poem of mine will put you in TEARS. My genius suggests neither fairy nor witch, My tales to adorn with cauldrons of pitch, Alarm the world with fiery EYES, And from the hero snatch his prize, Leap out from her den with a terrible BOUNCE, And on the trembling damsel pounce, And bottle her up in a close corked JAR, Or whirl her away in a flaming car; Then her knight, the brave Sir FRANCIS, Upon his noble steed advances, All his armour off he LEAVES, Preserves alone his polished greaves, His defence is a buff JACKET, Nor sword nor axe nor lance can crack it, It was made at HARROGATE, By a tailor whose shop had a narrow gate; The elves attack with spears of BARLEY, But he drives them off, oh! rarely, Then they shoot him with an ARROW, From bow-strings greased with ear-wigs' marrow, The feathers, moth-wings downy VELVET, The bow-strings, of the spider's net: Thousands come, armed in this PATTERN, Which proves their mistress is no slattern; Some wear the legs and hoof of PAN, And some are in the form of man; But the knight is armed, for in his POCKET He has a talismanic locket, Which once belonged to HERCULES, Who wore it on his bunch of keys; The fairy comes, quite old and fat, Mounted upon a monstrous BAT; Around the knight a web she weaves, And holds him fast, and there she LEAVES Sir Francis weeping for his charmer, And longing for his knightly ARMOUR. But his sword was cast in the self-same forge As that of the great champion GEORGE; Thus he defies the witch's ARMY, He breaks his bands; 'Ye elves, beware me, I fear not your LEVIATHAN, No spells can stop a desperate man. Away in terror flies the REAR-GUARD, He seizes on the witch abhorred, Confines her in a COCKLE SHELL, And breaks all her enchantments fell, Catches her principal LIEUTENANT, Makes him of a split pine the tenant; Carries away the lady, nimble, As e'er Miss Merton plied her THIMBLE; Oh! this story would your frowns unbend.
"I had better go in first," she said; "you can come in later, and in the meantime you might go to the station for me and find out the exact time that the express train leaves for the north." "But," said the astonished consul, "I thought you were going to London?" "No," said Miss Desborough quietly, "I am going to join some friends at Harrogate."
"Hudson, I am getting to be a forgetful old fool," he said. "I'm getting old, that's what it is. Before I went to Harrogate I was with Rankin, my solicitor. He was talking to me about the Meredyths. I forget exactly what it was, but there's some money coming to the girl from Bob Meredyth, who went out to Australia.
But young Harrogate could not but connect his presence with the mystical fears and warnings of yesterday. The coach was a kind of commodious wagonette, invented by the modernist talent of the courier, who dominated the expedition with his scientific activity and breezy wit.
When on the fifth day the postman left nothing but a bill for little Gyp's shoes, and a note from Aunt Rosamund at Harrogate, where she had gone with Winton for the annual cure, Gyp's heart sank to the depths. Was this the end?
As it was, Metcalf now became one of the greatest of its road-makers and bridge-builders. About the year 1765 an Act was passed empowering a turnpike-road to be constructed between Harrogate and Boroughbridge.
I resume the points of my proclamation, so soon to be published to all Italy. The third item is that of ransom. I am asking from the friends of the Harrogate family a ransom of three thousand pounds, which I am sure is almost insulting to that family in its moderate estimate of their importance. Who would not pay triple this sum for another day's association with such a domestic circle?
'Anne, I declare cried Rupert. 'And, Mamma, this dreadful doggerel, proceeded Anne, 'proposed to send Fido's heart to this Mr. Hollis, and so put him in raptures with a gift from Miss Hazleby, and fill his mind with visions of a surrogate, and a wedding tour to Harrogate. Now was it not the most impertinent ungentlemanlike thing you ever heard of?
And throwing his hat over the trees, he drew his cutlass once more and began to escalade the slope up to the road. Frank Harrogate jumped up and ran across to help him, revolver in hand, but was astounded to hear himself imperatively recalled by the raucous voice of his father, who seemed to be in great agitation.
So Gillian returned to Friars' Holm bearing with her a note from Lady Arabella in which she asked her god-daughter to pay her a visit. In it, however, the wily old lady made no mention of her further idea of going to Harrogate, lest it should militate against an acceptance of the invitation.
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