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Tugby! said Trotty, who had been going round and round her, in an ecstasy. 'I SHOULD say, Chickenstalker Bless your heart and soul! A Happy New Year, and many of 'em! Mrs. Tugby, said Trotty when he had saluted her; 'I SHOULD say, Chickenstalker This is William Fern and Lilian. The worthy dame, to his surprise, turned very pale and very red.
We recalled to mind, for example, such descriptive particulars in the original story as that, in mentioning each successive kind of eatable, Tugby did so "as if he were musingly summing up his good actions," or that, after this, rubbing his fat legs and jerking them at the knees to get the fire upon the yet unroasted parts, he laughed as if somebody had tickled him!
Don't you think that, without any money, you've been a pretty constant customer at this shop, now? said Mr. Tugby. She repeated the same mute appeal. 'Suppose you try and deal somewhere else, he said. 'And suppose you provide yourself with another lodging. Come! Don't you think you could manage it? She said in a low voice, that it was very late. To-morrow.
'It's the only subject, said Tugby, bringing the butter-scale down upon the counter with a crash, by weighing his fist on it, 'that we've ever had a word upon; she and me; and look what it comes to! He's going to die here, after all. Going to die upon the premises. Going to die in our house! 'And where should he have died, Tugby? cried his wife. 'In the workhouse, he returned.
A hall-porter this proved to be whose voice, when he had found it "which it took him some time to do, for it was a long way off, and hidden under a load of meat" was, in truth, as the Author's lips expressed it, and as his pen had long before described it in the book, "a fat whisper." Afterwards when re-introduced, Tugby hardly, as it appeared to us, came up to the original description.
Tugby tried philosophy. 'Come, come! he said, with his hands in his pockets, 'you mustn't give way, you know. That won't do. You must fight up. What would have become of me if I had given way when I was porter, and we had as many as six runaway carriage-doubles at our door in one night! But, I fell back upon my strength of mind, and didn't open it!
Attentive to the rattling door, Mrs. Tugby had already risen. 'Now then! said that lady, passing out into the little shop. 'What's wanted? Oh! I beg your pardon, sir, I'm sure. I didn't think it was you.
'Now I see what you want, said Tugby; 'and what you mean. You know there are two parties in this house about you, and you delight in setting 'em by the ears. I don't want any quarrels; I'm speaking softly to avoid a quarrel; but if you don't go away, I'll speak out loud, and you shall cause words high enough to please you. But you shan't come in. That I am determined.
'Not the back-attic can't! cried Tugby, coming out into the shop to join the conference. 'The back-attic, Mr. Tugby, said the gentleman, 'is coming down- stairs fast, and will be below the basement very soon. Looking by turns at Tugby and his wife, he sounded the barrel with his knuckles for the depth of beer, and having found it, played a tune upon the empty part. 'The back-attic, Mr.
There he has been lying, now, these weeks and months. Between him and her baby, she has not been able to do her old work; and by not being able to be regular, she has lost it, even if she could have done it. How they have lived, I hardly know! 'I know, muttered Mr. Tugby; looking at the till, and round the shop, and at his wife; and rolling his head with immense intelligence.
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