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Updated: May 21, 2025
'H'm, there's something wrong 'ere, he remarked, pushing harder. 'Most likely a brick or some plaster fallen down, gasped Slyme, coming to Misery's assistance. 'Shall I try to open it? 'Don't trouble, replied Nimrod, rising to his feet. 'It's most likely what you say. I'll see that the new grate is sent up after dinner.
I am so struck, on a review, with the impertinent length of this letter, that I shall not increase it with one single word of apology, but abruptly conclude with assuring you that I am, Sir, yours and misery's most humble servant. XXI. To MR. DAVID BRICE, SHOEMAKER, GLASGOW. MOSSGIEL, June 12th, 1786.
"Don't you let him follow me; I won't have mud splashed over my new dress." Nancy clutched Misery's collar obediently. "Well, here goes."
O hearts that break and give no sign Save whitening lip and fading tresses, Till Death pours out his cordial wine Slow-dropped from Misery's crushing presses, If singing breath or echoing chord To every hidden pang were given, What endless melodies were poured, As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven! I hope that our landlady's daughter is not so badly off, after all.
Further, in his zeal for Rushton & Co. and his anxiety to earn his commission, he had often done things that had roused the animosity of rival firms to such an extent that it was highly improbable that any of them would employ him, and even if they would, Misery's heart failed him at the thought of having to meet on an equal footing those workmen whom he had tyrannized over and oppressed.
In the negro car belonging to the train in which we made this journey, were a mother and her children who had just been purchased; the husband and father being left behind with their old owner. The children cried the whole way, and the mother was misery's picture.
But the head was pleased by Manuel's services, because Misery loves company: and the two used to have long friendly talks together when Manuel's services and Misery's work for that day were over. "And how came you, sir, to be thus housed in a trunkless head?" asked Manuel, one time.
Now swift the days of manhood haste away, And misery's pressure turns the temples gray. The Woman's hands an ample casket bear; She lifts the lid she scatters ill in air.
O hearts that break and give no sign Save whitening lip and fading tresses, Till Death pours out his cordial wine Slow-dropped from Misery's crushing presses, If singing breath or echoing chord To every hidden pang were given, What endless melodies were poured, As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven! I hope that our landlady's daughter is not so badly off, after all.
'And I hate her, said Mrs. Thornton, in a low fierce voice. 'I tried not to hate her, when she stood between you and me, because, I said to myself, she will make him happy; and I would give my heart's blood to do that. But now, I hate her for your misery's sake. Yes, John, it's no use hiding up your aching heart from me.
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