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Updated: June 9, 2025
And give my compliments to your 'sociate, and say, if he prosecutes this here hurchin any more, we'll settle his bizness for him; and so take a hint and make yourself scarce, old boy!" With that Mr. Sharp jumped into the barouche, and bade the postboy drive on as fast as he could.
Having passed Virginia Water, and as the postboy was taking them leisurely along up the steep hill leading to Bagshot, who should ride up to the side of the chaise but a single highwayman, who, having ordered the boy to halt, deliberately demanded their money and watches.
The huge square columns that supported the gate were surmounted by the family crest. Close adjoining was the porter's lodge, sheltered under dark fir trees and almost buried in shrubbery. The postboy rang a large porter's bell, which resounded though the still frosty air, and was answered by the distant barking of dogs, with which the mansion-house seemed garrisoned.
Sure it's often I've druv ye and Mr. Edward too. I used to wurruk for Mr. Ross of Mullinger. I was Denny the postboy Denis Driscoll, yer honor; sure ye must know me?" "Oh yes, to be sure I remember," said Gerald, as recollection slowly dawned upon him. "But who'd have thought of finding you in a place like this? I didn't even know you'd left Ross's stables." "Six or siven months ago, yer honor."
She was speaking rapidly in a low tone, unlike her usual voice. “‘You cannot get through all that snow,’ she said. ‘Get help; there are men not far off with spades. Oh, be careful! You are off the road! Stop, stop! that is the way to Armstrong’s Clough. Does not the postboy know the road? He is bewildered. I tell you it is madness to go on.
He spoke to a postboy who was dozing under the gateway; and who, after hearing what he wanted, referred him to the ostler; who after hearing all he had to say again, referred him to the landlord; who was a tall gentleman in a blue neckcloth, a white hat, drab breeches, and boots with tops to match, leaning against a pump by the stable-door, picking his teeth with a silver toothpick.
Here he produced a decanter of curiously light wine, and a block of curiously heavy cake, and administered instalments of those dainties to the young people; at the same time sending out a meagre servant to offer a glass of 'something' to the postboy, who answered that he thanked the gentleman, but, if it was the same tap as he had tasted before, he had rather not.
The little postboy who had been taken out from the midst of the horses said: "As to the spring, that could be mended by a strong piece of wood. It will only make the carriage shake you more. But there is the broken wheel! And, worst of all, my hat is under it, smashed to pieces." "Damn your hat!" said M. d'Anquetil.
"It were a leveller as you was a fair askin' an' a-pleading for, an' you got it!" "Is the lady stopping here to-night?" enquired Anthony. "She are, sir!" answered the postboy. "She am, sir!" answered the other, "an' because why, sir I'll tell ye true, if you won't go a-landin' me no more o' them one-er's " "Because 'is near 'orse cast a shoe, sir," explained the postboy.
'This way, gentlemen; don't trouble yourselves about the postboy now, sir. I'll send him to you when you ring for him, sir. Now, John, the candles. The candles were brought, the fire was stirred up, and a fresh log of wood thrown on. Mr. Pickwick sat down at a side table, and hastily indited a note to Mr.
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