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Littlejohn could make nothing of it, nor indeed could the artists' colourman, who had been used to pictures all his life. No wonder, for it was the first Rossetti that had ever been seen in Coalchester. And it was the same at the little paperhanger's shop where Theophilus had ordered some pieces of Morris wall-paper for his room.
Should anything give way, and you tumble out and break your neck, the democracy would go into mourning, said Littlejohn, who had kept very quiet up to this time. "'Not a bit of it! I answered, 'our democracy is like Parr's Life Pills, enervating and elasticating.
Why tear down the noble edifice you cannot rebuild? why blight the cheering prospects of thousands to gratify the vain ambition of pedantic politicians? "'Hallo! Smooth, my dear fellow, what place is this below? cries out Littlejohn, looking over, as the balloon made a B line westward. "'That, I interrupted, 'used to be called the 'far West. Now it is getting to be the centre of civilization.
Captain M'Intyre, who, like many of his profession, looked down with infinite scorn on those citizen soldiers who had assumed arms without any professional title to bear them, rose with great reluctance, observing that he should not know what to say to Mr. Littlejohn; and that to see an old gouty shop-keeper attempting the exercise and duties of a private soldier, was really too ridiculous.
Pierce thought it good policy to make John Littlejohn a fellow voyager with me. It was not a bad idea, seeing that Mr. Pierce had an inward hatred of the Britishers, nor thought a war with them would be the most unpopular thing in the world, inasmuch as it would attach to him the Young American party, which said party might in gratitude render good service to his re-election.
"Do you think she'd take me in, Mr. Littlejohn?" "I'm sure of it. There's a vacant room ..." "Does she talk?" "Moderately." "Not a regular walking newspaper no?" "Not exactly " "Then I'm afraid it's no use," he sighed. I glanced up at his face, but it was inscrutable. "You you want a landlady who talks?" I gasped, incredulous. "It's one of the rules," he said, again obscurely.
Littlejohn broke into a fresh spasm of groaning at this, and seemed to be in such suffering, that it made Gypsy turn pale to hear her. "Haven't you had a doctor?" she asked, compassionately. "Laws yes," said the old woman. "Had a doctor!
Many of the beautiful homes of the planters in the neighborhood were destroyed, and a schooner belonging to Robert Smith, and one, the property of a Mr. Littlejohn, were captured by the enemy and carried off down the sound.
I like my own picture and the Scottish chief: I am going to read them as fast as I can." Two more volumes of Tales followed. Then there was no need to write more for the dearly loved grandson, as a year or two later, when he was only eleven, poor Littlejohn died.
"Why, no indeed! it can't be helped now. Run back to bed." "Just like Gypsy, for all the world!" said Tom, the next morning. "Always so quick and generous, and sorry for people, and ready to do, and you can depend on her just about as much as you could on a brisk west wind!" "After you have seen Mrs. Littlejohn, and explained why she went supperless last night," said Mrs.
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