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Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass at the same time. 'I have just been telling Pickwick that we must have you all down at Christmas. We're going to have a wedding a real wedding this time. 'A wedding! exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass, turning very pale. 'Yes, a wedding. But don't be frightened, said the good-humoured old man; 'it's only Trundle there, and Bella. 'Oh, is that all? said Mr.
Snodgrass, a comfortably stout and evangelical man, lived for forty years on terms of affectionate intimacy with three successive ministers of the Congregational Church, the deacons of which shared with his vestrymen the control of the village councils. The summer residents divided their attendance impartially between the two houses of worship.
"A horned toad is just as beautiful as a butterfly," said Mr. Snodgrass gravely. "The only difference is, people don't appreciate the toad. I do, and, some day, I hope to write a history of that creature. I have my notes ready for the first volume, which will be a sort of introduction." "How many volumes do you expect to write?" asked Mr. Seabury, curiously.
Winkle's would, perhaps, fit you better. The stranger took Mr. Winkle's measure with his eye, and that feature glistened with satisfaction as he said, 'Just the thing. Mr. Tupman looked round him. The wine, which had exerted its somniferous influence over Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle, had stolen upon the senses of Mr. Pickwick.
He went on to argue that the owner of a splendid villa might have, for reasons he gave, less content in it than another person in a tiny cottage so small that it had no spare room for his mother-in-law even, and that in fact his satisfaction in his own place might be spoiled by the more showy place of his neighbor. Mr. Snodgrass attempts in his book a philosophical explanation of this.
The Russian Volunteer Fleet stands second on the list of subsidy receivers. This is practically a Government affair. It was created in the war-time of 1877-78, by private subscription, as an auxiliary war fleet; and was reorganized for general service in 1892. Gen. R.T. Greener, St. Petersburg, in U.S. Con. Gen. John H. Snodgrass, Moscow, in U.S. Con. Gen. Snodgrass, Con.
Snodgrass took his cigar from his mouth, and struck the table violently with his clenched fist. 'That's good sound argument, said the placid man. 'Containing a position which I deny, interrupted he of the dirty countenance. 'And there's certainly a very great deal of truth in what you observe too, Sir, said the placid gentleman.
'We are in a capital situation now, said Mr. Pickwick, looking round him. The crowd had gradually dispersed in their immediate vicinity, and they were nearly alone. 'Capital! echoed both Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle. 'What are they doing now? inquired Mr. Pickwick, adjusting his spectacles. 'I I rather think, said Mr. Winkle, changing colour 'I rather think they're going to fire.
Pickwick sit down to make entries in his journal, and spend half an hour in so doing?" At Bath on the night of Mr. Winkle's race round the Crescent. What was this journal? Or why did he keep it? Or why are so few allusions made to it? Mr. Snodgrass was the appointed historiographer of the party, and his "notes" are often spoken of and appealed to as the basis of the chronicle.
We distinctly heard the Confederate cavalrymen crying, 'Stop, you blankety blanked Yankees! But we felt that our business in Chattanooga, demanded immediate attention, and we had no time to spare them. "Passing a certain place, I saw General Thomas standing upon the brow of Snodgrass Hill, or Horseshoe Ridge, field glass in hand, intently watching the movements of the troops.
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