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Updated: May 3, 2025
But I want to tell you something beyond that I must tell somebody! And I know that if I tell you you'll keep it secret until, or unless you think you ought to tell it to the police!" Purdie started. "The police!" he exclaimed. "What is it?" Elsie Bennett turned to a table, and picked up a couple of newspapers. "Have you read this Praed Street mystery affair?" she asked.
There was a decided sense of exhilaration within him when he finally left her; as for Zillah, she went homewards in a very thoughtful mood, already conscious that she was more than half in love with this good-looking lad who had come so strangely into her life. And at the corner of Praed Street she ran up against Mr.
To Praed however Vivie took the bitterness, the disillusions which came over her at intervals: "I feel, Praddy, I'm getting older and I seem to be at a loose end. D'you know I'm on the verge of thirty-seven and I have no definite career? I'm rather tired of being a well-meaning adventuress." "Then why," Praddy would reply, "don't you go and live with your mother?" "Ugh!
Praed had been accustomed to journalism before he left Eton, and had made acquaintance at Windsor with the bookseller Knight, for whose Quarterly Magazine both he and Macaulay wrote some very good things.
The same question might with very good reason be raised concerning the political life of Australia, which has been almost entirely neglected since Mrs. Campbell Praed used up the best of her early impressions and settled in England.
Of the former staff of the Etonian, Praed, Moultrie, Nelson Coleridge, and, among others, Mr. Edmond Beales, so well known to our generation as an ardent politician, were now in residence at King's or Trinity. Mr.
Praed says: "At first the natives retreated before the whites; and, except that they every now and then speared a beast in one of the herds, gave little cause for uneasiness.
"Ah," put in the vicar, "Praed was a clever fellow; and a true poet, too." "Indeed?" said Min. "I have heard his name, but I've never seen anything that he wrote. Do you recollect any of his charades, Mr Lorton?" she asked again, turning to me. "I think I remember one," I said, repeating those three spirited verses which are well-known, beginning "Come from my First, ay, come!"
He was, said this fellow, next door neighbour to Mr. Daniel Multenius, in Praed Street, Chen Li's landlord: his name, if Chen Li wanted to know it, was Parslett, fruitier and green-grocer, and it was there, bold as brass, over his shop-door, for him or anybody to look at. He had a side-door to his house: that side-door was exactly opposite a side-door in Mr.
"Now then, next day, Purvis and I being, in our different ways, at work in the East End, we heard the news about the Praed Street tradesman, Parslett. That seemed to me remarkable proof of my theory. As the successive editions of the newspapers came out during that day, and next day, we learnt all about the Parslett affair. I saw through it at once.
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