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Updated: June 18, 2025
Or, to continue in this charming vein of parable, the author of Pelham may be likened to Beau Tibbs. Tibbs, as we all remember, would pass for a pink of fashion, and had a wife whom he presented to the world as a paragon of virtue and ton, and who was but the cast-off mistress of a lord. Mr. Bulwer's philosophy is his Mrs.
Curtis's example, the world for the most part knew the colonel's housekeeper as Mrs. Tibbs. She might be a tyrant, but liberties were taken with her territory; for almost the first use that the colonel made of his house was to ask a rheumatic sergeant, who had lately been invalided, to come and benefit by the Avonmouth climate.
The old simple methods are the best." As Mr. and Mrs. Breckenridge Endicott were entering their cab to drive to the wharf, Mrs. Maxon, the landlady, came hurriedly with the scandal that Mr. Algernon Tibbs had been found in his room in the stupor of intoxication. "Why, he might have been robbed while in that condition," said Mrs. Maxon. "He will not be robbed while under your roof," said Mr.
Tibbs thought in his own mind that the event was by no means unlikely, but, as he never argued with his wife, he put a stop to the dialogue, by observing it was ‘time to go to business.’ He always went out at ten o’clock in the morning, and returned at five in the afternoon, with an exceedingly dirty face, and smelling mouldy. Nobody knew what he was, or where he went; but Mrs.
His landlady may have sat for the picture, and Beau Tibbs' scanty wardrobe have been a facsimile of his own. It was with some difficulty that we found our way to Dribble's lodgings. They were up two pair of stairs, in a room that looked upon the court, and when we entered he was seated on the edge of his bed, writing at a broken table.
Mrs. Van Horne and the doctor, who was happily in the house, did all in their power to relieve their young friend; and Mrs. Tibbs was really quite distressed and mortified, when she found the effects of her allusion to the accident were so serious. "Poor young thing! I'd no notion, Mrs. Van Horne, that she would have taken it so much to heart.
Tibbs, who had been listening to the dialogue, looked aghast, and evinced a strong inclination to ask a question, but was checked by a look from his wife. Mr. Wisbottle laughed, and said Tomkins had made a pun; and Tomkins laughed too, and said he had not. The remainder of the meal passed off as breakfasts usually do. Conversation flagged, and people played with their teaspoons.
There was only one low sound to be heard—it was the unhappy Tibbs cleaning the gentlemen’s boots in the back kitchen, and accompanying himself with a buzzing noise, in wretched mockery of humming a tune. The postman drew near the house. He paused—so did Mrs. Tibbs. A knock—a bustle—a letter—post-paid.
‘He generally comes down, once a week,’ replied Mrs. Tibbs; ‘I dare say you’ll see him on Sunday.’ With this consolatory promise Mrs. Bloss was obliged to be contented. She accordingly walked slowly down the stairs, detailing her complaints all the way; and Mrs. Tibbs followed her, uttering an exclamation of compassion at every step. Bloss slowly departed, down the shady side of the street.
Calton in a very bland tone, looking over the banisters. ‘Sir!’ replied he of the dirty face. ‘Will you have the kindness to step up-stairs for a moment?’ ‘Certainly, sir,’ said Tibbs, delighted to be taken notice of. ‘A rather unpleasant occurrence, Mr.
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