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Updated: June 25, 2025
As for the eatables and drinkables habitually set forth upon the counter, by what he generally speaks of as the Refreshmenters, quoth the Boy at Mugby, in a naif confidence, addressed to you in your capacity at once as applicant and victim, "when you're telegraphed, you should see 'em begin to pitch the stale pastry into the plates, and chuck the sawdust sang-wiches under the glass covers, and get out the ha, ha! the sherry O, my eye, my eye! for your refreshment."
Is she out of doors this cold winter day, gadding about London streets? or how the deuce is it she doesn't come to give her old father a kiss, and bid him welcome home?" "Lor', sir," cried Mrs. Mugby, "you don't mean to say as you haven't heard from Miss Rosa begging your pardon, Mrs. Jernam but the other do come so much more natural?" "Heard from her!" exclaimed the captain.
Joseph Buncombe was delighted to encounter a sea-faring friend, and insisted on taking George Jernam down to River View Cottage to eat what he called a homely bit of dinner. The homely bit of dinner turned out to be a very excellent repast; for Mrs. Mugby prided herself upon her powers as a cook and housekeeper, and to produce a good dinner at a short notice was a triumph she much enjoyed.
I'll go back, instead of going on. I'll go back by my friend Lamps's Up X presently." He went back to Mugby Junction, and, in point of fact, he established himself at Mugby Junction. It was the convenient place to live in, for brightening Phoebe's life. It was the convenient place to live in, for having her taught music by Beatrice.
Susan Trott placed the materials for the captain's favourite punch upon the table after she had removed the cloth; but Joseph Duncombe did not appear to see the cherry preparations for a comfortable evening. He rose hastily from his chair, put on his hat, and went out, much to the discomfiture of the worthy Mrs. Mugby.
Mugby, had complained all day of a touch of rheumatism, and had gone to bed after the kitchen tea, leaving Susan Trott, the smart little parlour-maid, to carry in the pretty pink and gold china tea-service, and hissing silver tea-kettle, to Miss Rosamond and her papa in the sitting-room.
There was within him, too, that dull sense of vacuity which follows separation from an object of interest, and cessation of a pleasant pursuit; and this sense, being quite new to him, made him restless. Further, in losing Mugby Junction, he had found himself again; and he was not the more enamoured of himself for having lately passed his time in better company.
You don't know what I mean? What a pity! But I think you do. I think you must. Look here. I am the boy at what is called The Refreshment Room at Mugby Junction, and what's proudest boast is, that it never yet refreshed a mortal being. That's me. What a lark it is! We are the Model Establishment, we are, at Mugby.
A gentleman the other day, who expressed great surprise at the smallness of the salary of our President, said, that, of course, Andrew Johnson would receive a pension when he retired from office. I could not explain to him how comical the idea was to me; but when I think of the American people pensioning Andrew Johnson, well, like the fictitious Yankee in "Mugby Junction," "I laff, I du."
Mugby, in her most insinuating tone, "which I am well aware it's not my place to interfere in family matters; but knowing as devotion itself is a word not strong enough to express Mrs. Jernam's feelings for her pa, I cannot stand by and see her misunderstood by that very pa.
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