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Updated: June 3, 2025
Pot's works are neither very important nor very numerous, but as a portrait painter he is represented in the Louvre by a portrait of Charles I., which was probably painted when he was in England in 1631 or thereabouts; while at Hampton Court is a beautiful little piece by him which is catalogued under the title of A Startling Introduction.
But it has been well that, before we two behind the veil had passed, we met again, and you left me such a fragrant memory. O Maggie, Maggie, some day I hope to see that man and tell him how sorely the Pipkin needed the Pot's letter! It's all come so quick, Maggie, and it was over so soon that I hardly remember the beginning.
He goes into the church, but not for the sake of the service; and perhaps he may enter into one or other of the priests. He speaks in the Parliament, not for the benefit of the country, but only for himself. He's an artist with the color-pot as well as in the theatre; but when he gets all the power into his own hands, then the pot's empty!
Uncommon good it smells too. Here's the tin pot. This tin pot's a small fortun' in itself! Here's the blankets. Here's the axe. Who says we ain't got a first-rate fit out? I feel as if I was a cadet gone out to Indy, and my noble father was chairman of the Board of Directors.
A hook-nosed woman, carrying a smoking lamp, conducted him to a room under the eaves. It was small and suffocating. He involuntarily lifted his hands and touched the ceiling. "It's like a boilin' potato I feel," he said; "and the pot's so little and the lid so tight!" He went to the window, and taking out the nail that held down the sash, pushed it up.
I say, fellows, what shall we do?" "Do! Go after them and get it back!" cried Jack Norris, and then a chorus of shouts went up; "the coffee pot's gone!" "All the bacon and eggs are gone!" "And the bread, too!" "They sure made a clean sweep," said Bert Fayre. "Who do you s'pose did it?"
Don't you see the pot's about to bile over?" Hans quietly obeyed. "If I chanced to be alongside o' that Tottie over there just now," continued George, "I'd be inclined to stop his noise with a rap on his spotted pate." "You'd have to make it a heavy rap, then, to produce any effect," said Hans, taking a long draw at his pipe, "for he belongs to a hard-headed race."
Dan had risen and lighted the lamp that swings in the chimney, and father first of all had gone up and kissed mother, and left the stranger standing; then he turned round, saying, "A tough day, it's been a tough day; and here's some un to prove it. Georgie, hope that pot's steam don't belie it, for Mr. Gabriel Verelay and I want a good supper and a good bed."
"Whear the pot's brocken, there let the sherds lie, lad," said the old man; "keep thy breath to cool thy poddish, forby thy mug of yal, and here't comes." As he spoke the hostess brought up a pot of ale, smoking hot, and put it in Ralph's hand. "Let every man stand his awn rackups, Ralph. Sim's a bad lot, and reet serv'd."
It counts against a fellow so; and there's some more too 'All right, Pater. Just stand clear of our photo-bracket, will you? The little formality over, there was a pause. Winton swung round, yawned in Pot's astonished face and staggered towards the window-seat. 'What's the matter with you, Dick? Ill? 'No. Perfectly all right, thanks.
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