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Updated: June 2, 2025
Hamlet, III., 2. Often as the story from which the church derived its familiar name has been told, no narrative dealing with New York would be quite complete without it. As it deals with Joseph Jefferson, let it be related in the words of the stage Rip Van Winkle's Reminiscences. Mr.
'I am not so blind, Sam, as not to have seen, a long time since, that you entertain something more than a friendly feeling towards Mrs. Winkle's maid, said Mr. Pickwick. 'You hear this, Samivel? said Mr. Weller, in the same judicial form of speech as before.
'My friends are not much in the way of this sort of thing yet, Martin, said Wardle, noticing the look. 'Live and learn, you know. They'll be good shots one of these days. I beg my friend Winkle's pardon, though; he has had some practice. Mr.
Winkle's residence, who was one not easily to be got the better of, as the following dialogue will show: "'Close by, sir, said the waiter, 'not above five hundred yards, sir. Mr. Winkle is a wharfinger, sir, at the canal, sir. Private residence is not oh dear no, sir, not five hundred yards, sir. Here the waiter blew a candle out and made a feint of lighting it again, in order to afford Mr.
'Fill your glass, and pass the wine, said the indefatigable visitor. Mr. Tupman did as he was requested; and the additional stimulus of the last glass settled his determination. 'Winkle's bedroom is inside mine, said Mr.
Even to this day they never hear a thunder-storm of a summer afternoon about the Kaatskill, but they say Hendrick Hudson and his crew are at their game of ninepins; and it is a common wish of all henpecked husbands in the neighborhood, when life hangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a quieting draught out of Rip Van Winkle's flagon.
Pickwick and Bob Sawyer having also repaired the disorder which the journey had made in their apparel, the three started forth, arm in arm, to Mr. Winkle's; Bob Sawyer impregnating the atmosphere with tobacco smoke as he walked along.
He, too, had some of Winkle's craft. He had been entertained cordially and hospitably by old Wardle, and repaid him by stealing his daughter's affections in a very underhand way, actually plotting to run away with her. There was something rather ignominious in his detection at Osborne's Hotel. He is a very colourless being.
Winkle's bosom, occasioned possibly by the temporary abstraction of his coat though it is scarcely reasonable to suppose that so slight a circumstance can have excited even a passing feeling of anger in a Pickwickian's breast. With this exception, their good-humour was completely restored; and the evening concluded with the conviviality with which it had begun.
Winkle's skates, it may very well be surprising to open it and read about the sickening thuds that beat out the life of Nancy, or that mysterious villain whose face was blasted with disease. As a nightmare, the work is really admirable.
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