Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 17, 2025
Let us, I say, look at home first, and reclaim the lost, the fallen, the destitute in our streets; let us convert our own `heathen, our murderers, our drunkards, our wife-beaters, our thieves, our adulterers; and, then, let us talk of converting Hindoos and regenerating the Jews! Our duty, Mawley, as I hold my commission, is to preach Christ's gospel in all its truth and simplicity and love.
The joyful intelligence was circulated by the pleased Lady Dasher, that, Mr Mawley had at length proposed for her daughter, Bessie. It was time for it, as he had angled around and nibbled warily at the tempting bait offered him like the knowing fish that he was for months before he would permit himself to be caught!
The gown, the bonnet, the smiles, and eyes, all belonged to Jane Holford; and Reginald, who had, up to this time, made no great progress in the study of comparative physiology, now made such rapid strides, that he could have told you every point in which the possessor of the above-named attributes differed from the stiff and prim Miss de Mawley, who had hitherto been the sole representative of the female sex in Mawley Court.
But, there's no romance about visiting dirty alleys in London!" "There are the Scripture readers and district visitors, are there not?" said Mr Mawley. "True," replied the vicar, "and I would be the last to disparage their earnest efforts. What I meant was, that, while we give hundreds of pounds to foreign missions, pence are grudged for home work!
The only drawback to my happiness, was Mr Mawley, whom I disliked now more than ever. Although he had all the rest of the week in which to pay his devoirs, having carte blanche from Mrs Clyde to run in and out of her house whenever he so pleased he took it into his head to drop in regularly on the very evening that I had selected and thought especially mine.
Mawley was constantly going there, as Lady Dasher had said, and Mrs Clyde encouraged him, there could be no doubt; there must be something in it, or these reports would never have got about. "There is never any smoke without fire." Besides, Min herself did not dislike the curate as I did. I could see that plainly for myself the night of that birthday party at her house.
In addition to Horner and Mawley, there was also an odious cousin of hers, called "Jack," or "Tom," or "Ned," or some other abominably familiar abbreviation, who hung over the piano stool, and said "Min, do this," and "Min, do that," in a way that drove me to frenzy. I hate cousins! I don't see the necessity for them. I'm sure people can get along very well without their existence.
She sang every song that Mawley and Horner asked her for, playing the accompaniments for the latter when he favoured the company with his idea of ballad vocalisation. Horner thought he possessed a fine tenor voice: I didn't think so, especially on this evening! But, no matter what these two asked her to do, she did.
To adopt another illustration, I should say that Dickens was the John Leech of fictional literature, Thackeray its Hogarth. Even Jerrold, I think, in his most bitter, cynical moods, was truer to life and nature than Dickens. Did you ever read the former's Story of a Feather, by the way?" "No," answered Mawley, testily, "I can't say I ever did; and I don't think it likely I ever will."
"O-oh, Mr Mawley!" exclaimed Bessie Dasher, in the unmeaning manner common to young ladies, in lieu of saying anything, when they have got nothing to say: the exclamation expressing either astonishment, horror, alarm, or rebuke, as the case may require. "Instance, instance! Name, name!" said I, keeping the curate up to the mark.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking