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Updated: May 11, 2025
"It shouldn't take that long just to ask what I had for supper." "Oh no, Your Honor," said the Doctor. "The dog told me that long ago. But then he went on to tell me what you did after supper." "Never mind that," said the judge. "Tell me what answer he gave you to my question." "He says you had a mutton-chop, two baked potatoes, a pickled walnut and a glass of ale."
And I was quite offended with papa, who was always making sarcastic remarks, for calling them mutton-chop whiskers; but they really were the shape of mutton-cutlets at that time. He wears them differently now." Mrs. Sheldon branched off into a disquisition on whiskers, and Diana escaped from the task of describing her lover. She could not have described him to Georgy.
When, therefore, he had got over the regrets about the cauliflower, and had swallowed the mutton-chop, he began to look about him to note the converse that passed between the young men, and the frequent glances they cast at the young women.
"I fully understand that, Stewart, and my friend Daunt will be glad to hear you say what I know is true. For he is here in our state on business business in your line," affirmed the Senator. He put his hand on the arm of the elderly man with the assertive mutton-chop whiskers. "Silas Daunt, Mayor Morrison! Mr. Daunt of the banking firm of Daunt & Cropley."
The cold mutton-chop with its opaque fat, the beef with its caked gravy, the arrowroot stiff and glazed, all untouched, might be seen by the bedsides in the afternoons, while the patients were lying back, sinking for want of support.
He comes home to tea at 6.30, which used to be half past six in my days. He is very tired then, though he never will allow it, and it would not be fair to attack him. I give him a mutton-chop, or two poached eggs, or some other trifle of nourishment. And then I make him doze for an hour and a half, to soothe his agitated intellect.
Take advantage of your half-portion arm and abuse me," the brakeman retorted bitterly. "Are you looking for that little old man with the Henry Clay collar and the white mutton-chop whiskers?" "I certainly am." "Well, he was looking for you just before we left San Francisco. He asked me if I had seen a one-armed man with a box under his good arm. I'll lead you to him."
His eyes were watching her closely, and to himself he was saying: "Gad, what a beauty she is, in spite of what she has suffered!" "I am going away far away!" she went on, in a low voice. "Oh, I cannot, cannot stay here." "You can't travel in your condition, Margaret." He pulled thoughtfully at his mutton-chop whiskers. "You let me help you." "You?" "Yes.
And when was that?" asked Lydia. "I suppose it was then as she dropped the purse, and it got swept away in all the confusion that followed," continued Jane, now placing herself in front of Lydia, and gazing at her. Lydia was helping herself to another mutton-chop, and began to feel a little uncomfortable. "When was Mrs. Bell last in the attics?" she said. "I was with her," continued Jane.
"I don't know exactly, but it was a large amount, fifteen or twenty thousand dollars." "What sort of a man would you take this Styles to he?" "Oh, he is a big, overbearing Englishman, one of the kind with mutton-chop whiskers and a red nose. He is a great chap for fast horses, and I've heard he has quite a stable of them over to his place. He is also a dog fancier." "Has he been here lately?"
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