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Also the legs of Irving fitted well and often under the Hone mahogany, and the part of the author that was perceptible above the table gave a flavour and dignity to the board. Somehow we see Hone's cheeks puffed out with pride as he chronicles: "My old friend, Washington Irving, who visits his native country after an absence of seventeen years. I passed half an hour with him very pleasantly."
In one of the last entries of the Diary, a few months before Hone's death, allusion is made to a personal attack on the editor by the defeated candidate of the Locofoco party for the District-Attorneyship.
I accused you of cheating, do you remember? And you were quite indignant." A glimmer of the old gay mischief shone for a fleeting second through her tragedy. "That was the first move in the game," she said. "At least you never suspected me of that." "No; you had me there." There was a ring of sternness in Hone's voice. "So that was the beginning?" he said. She nodded.
Supposing Hone's story to be true, it naturally conducts us to yet more unfamiliar, and therefore less credible dreams, in which the unknown past, present, or future is correctly revealed. Veracious Dreams. Past, Present and Future unknown Events "revealed". Theory of "Mental Telegraphy" or "Telepathy" fails to meet Dreams of the unknowable Future.
One thing is certain, that the reformers found their way into the barracks at Knightsbridge and had lunch there at the expense of the soldiers, who discussed Hone's pamphlets and roared with laughter over the Political Litany. The Prince Regent communicated to both Houses certain papers, and recommended that they should at once be taken into consideration.
But lately, peering over the shelves in her father's study, where she was never allowed to touch a book without asking, she had discovered a thick old volume called Hone's Miscellany. To her great joy she was allowed to look at it, "although," her father added, "I don't think even you, Pennie, will find much that is interesting in it."
Hone's arms slowly dropped. His brown face sobered. But the next instant he smiled again. "Find the woman, Teddy!" he said lightly. "I've found her," said Teddy unexpectedly. "The deuce you have!" said Hone. "Sure, and it's truly grateful I am! Is she young, my son, and lovely?" "She is the loveliest woman I know," said Teddy Duncombe, with all sincerity. "Faith!" laughed the Irishman.
On the day following, the 20th of December, he was tried before the Chief Justice and another special jury of the city of London, for a third parody, and after another defence, which lasted nine hours, he was a third time acquitted. What enhances the merit of Mr. Hone's courageous defence is, that during the whole of the time he was labouring under indisposition.
"It's the devil's own concoction," declared Teddy Duncombe, Major Hone's warmest friend and admirer, who was watching from the great stand near the refreshment-tent. "It never fails. We call him Achilles because he always carries all before him." "Even Achilles had his vulnerable point," remarked Mrs. Perceval, to whom the words were addressed.
Hone's jury had said guilty, instead of not guilty, if he had been tried by a country instead of a London special jury, he might have gone quickly to gaol, abandoned and ruined, before any of the above gentry would have stirred one inch to have saved him from rotting there.
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