Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 11, 2025
A pretty compact group they made, and Mr. Waddington was gratified by their appearance there. And well in the centre of the hall, above the women's hats, he could see Mr. Hitchin's bush of hair, his shrewd, round, clean-shaven and rosy face, his grey check shoulders and red tie. Mr. Hitchin had the air of being supported by the entire body of his workmen. Mr. Waddington was gratified by Mr.
'Wa'al, deakin, I says, 'I'm 'fraid the squire's office 'll be shut up 'fore you git there, but I'll take any word you'd like to send. You know I told ye, I says, 'that he'd stand 'ithout hitchin'. An' at that he only jest kind o' choked an' sputtered.
Vol. iii., p. 655. Rogers on Trouble of Mind. Grace Abounding, No. 260. 158. 1st edition, p. 355. Vol. ii., p. 425. Vol. i., p. 40. Vol. i., p. 769. Vol. i., p. 549. This secrecy became needful after the Restoration, as noticed more fully afterwards, p. lix. During those years of persecution, a frequent place of resort was a dell in Wain-wood, about three miles from Hitchin.
"Here they come, boys," said a Scot, as the sound of the pipes grew louder. "There's a drummer for ye. Listen 'til that double roll, wull ye?" "Ay, Danny, the boys will be shovin' out their chests and hitchin' their hips about something awful." "Ye may say that, Hec. Will ye look at young Angus on the big drum, man, but he has got the gr-rand style on him."
With such direct testimony, we visited the very romantic dell, where, in the still hours of midnight, the saints of God were wont to meet and unite in Divine worship. It is a most romantic dell, in Wain-wood, which crowns a hill about three miles from Hitchin.
No sooner he'd drop off 'n he git ter twitchin' an' hitchin' an' wake up a-yelpin' fer Daggett. Long about taps, Buck, who's been out on a private reconnoissance, comes back an' whispers ter me: 'Ssst, Bill! The cur's found! Don't tell Ranch; the bloke'd die of heart failure. I struck his trail an' follered it an' say, Bill, what'n thunder do yer think?
After supper some of us used to retire to Douglas Jerrold's room in one of the towers, and there we spent a jovial evening, prolonging the entertainment until the small hours of the morning. Then my fly, which had been waiting a long time, enabled me to reach Hitchin and get three hours' sleep.
My father was a solicitor at Hitchin, and much esteemed in the county of Hertford. He was also agent for many of the county families, with whom he was in friendly intercourse. My mother was the daughter of the respected Clerk of the Peace for Bedfordshire, a position of good influence, which might be, and is occasionally, of great assistance to a young man commencing his career at the Bar.
But he broke out laughin' two or three times while he was hitchin' up and says he: 'Don't tell any o' the neighbors, Jane, that I stopped plowin' to go after a load of Johnny-jump-ups. "When we got to the Harris place we found the Johnny-jump-ups lyin' in a gully by the side o' the road, a pitiful sight to anybody that loves flowers and understands their feelin's.
Nevertheless, the run to Hitchin satisfied me perfectly that the car was not a "roundabout," as so many are, but a car well "within the meaning of the Act." "And what is your opinion of her, Ewart?" asked the Count, as we sat down to cold beef and pickles in the long, old-fashioned upstairs room of the Sun Inn at Hitchin. "Couldn't be better," I declared.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking