United States or Kazakhstan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Tibbs apologised for being down rather late; the bell was rung; James brought up the urn, and received an unlimited order for dry toast and bacon. Tibbs sat down at the bottom of the table, and began eating water-cresses like a Nebuchadnezzar. Mr. O’Bleary appeared, and Mr. Alfred Tomkins. The compliments of the morning were exchanged, and the tea was made.
O’Bleary was an Irishman, recently imported; he was in a perfectly wild state; and had come over to England to be an apothecary, a clerk in a government office, an actor, a reporter, or anything else that turned up—he was not particular. He was on familiar terms with two small Irish members, and got franks for everybody in the house.
Frederick O’Bleary, Mr. Alfred Tomkins, and Mr. Wisbottle, bowed like the mandarins in a grocer’s shop; Tibbs rubbed hands, and went round in circles. He was observed to close one eye, and to assume a clock-work sort of expression with the other; this has been considered as a wink, and it has been reported that Agnes was its object. We repel the calumny, and challenge contradiction. Mrs.
O’Bleary?’ said Mrs. Tibbs, hoping to start a topic. ‘Yes,’ replied Orson, with a mouthful of toast. ‘Never saw anything like it before, I suppose?’ suggested Wisbottle. ‘No—except the Lord Lieutenant’s levees,’ replied O’Bleary. ‘Are they at all equal to our drawing-rooms?’ ‘Oh, infinitely superior!’ ‘Gad!
‘The accommodations are extraordinary,’ said O’Bleary. ‘Extraordinary indeed,’ returned Mrs. Bloss. ‘When Mr. Bloss was alive, he was promiscuously obligated to go to Ireland on business. I went with him, and raly the manner in which the ladies and gentlemen were accommodated with berths, is not creditable.’
Bloss, with a proper approximation to hysterics; ‘I think the house is on fire, or else there’s thieves in it. I have heard the most dreadful noises!’ ‘The devil you have!’ shouted Gobler again, bouncing back into his den, in happy imitation of the aforesaid dragon, and returning immediately with a lighted candle. ‘Why, what’s this? Wisbottle! Tomkins! O’Bleary! Agnes!
‘Excellent!’ said Tomkins. ‘Delightful!’ chimed in O’Bleary. ‘Disgusting machines!’ rejoined Evenson, who extended his dislike to almost every created object, masculine, feminine, or neuter. ‘Disgusting, Mr. Evenson!’ said Gobler, in a tone of strong indignation.—‘Disgusting! Look at their utility—consider how many lives they have saved by promoting perspiration.’
O’Bleary ate as much as he could conveniently carry, and Mrs. Tibbs felt a due degree of indignation thereat; Mr. Gobler and Mrs.
‘Hush!’ exclaimed Agnes, in a tone of the greatest alarm, just as Mrs. Tibbs was on the extreme verge of a fainting fit. ‘Hush!’ ‘Hush!’ exclaimed Evenson, at the same moment to Mrs. Tibbs. ‘There’s somebody coming up-stairs,’ said Agnes to O’Bleary. ‘There’s somebody coming down-stairs,’ whispered Evenson to Mrs. Tibbs.
O’Bleary,’ said the humming-top, turning round on his pivot, and facing the company, ‘what did you think of Vauxhall the other night?’ ‘Oh, it’s very fair,’ replied Orson, who had been enthusiastically delighted with the whole exhibition. ‘Never saw anything like that Captain Ross’s set-out—eh?’ ‘No,’ returned the patriot, with his usual reservation—‘except in Dublin.’
Word Of The Day