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I may even live to see a child running about these silent terraces . . . But this, my dearest wish, outruns all present indications; and if Prosper ever marries again it will be as his father married, and not for love. By good fortune I am able to supply the reader with some later news of two members of the expedition, Mr. Fett and Mr. Badcock.
Even so it was with Badcock. "That infernal mufro chivvied us up the road to Calvi and into the very arms of a Genoese picket. The soldiers arrested us there was no need to arrest the mufro, for he trotted at our heels and marched us to the citadel, into the presence of the commandant. Badcock's flute. . . . And this was a fact, Cavalier.
White pretended that this was remuneration for some other work; but it was believed on good grounds that Badcock had begun what Parr had completed, and that these famous Lectures were mainly their work. Badcock was one of the writers in the Monthly Review. Johnstone's Life of Dr. Parr, i. 218-278. For Badcock's correspondence with the editor of the Monthly Review, see Bodleian MS. Add.
His chatter tailed off in a pitiful exclamation as the litter-carriers came around the angle of the ridge with Nat's body between them. "Poor lad! Ah, poor lad!" I heard Billy say. Mr. Badcock nervously disjointed his flute. "I warned him, sir. Believe me, my last words were that, being in Rome, so to speak, he should do as the Romans did "
Badcock, who, as my father enticed the hogs nearer with fresh morsels of bread until they nuzzled close to us, suddenly made a motion to beat them off with the butt of his musket, whereupon the whole herd wheeled and scampered off through the gateway. "Why, man," cried my father, angrily, "did I not tell you they were tame! And now you have lost us good provender!" He raised his gun.
He had risen high in the service of the Emperor of Morocco, and had fitted out his ship expressly to be revenged upon the city which had once condemned him to death. The story concludes that he settled down, and lived the rest of his life as one of its most reputable citizens." "But what was the elixir?" inquired Mr. Badcock. "T'cht!" answered my father testily. "I agree with you, sir," said Mr.
There is a bull-dog tenacity in us British: and still from time to time I renewed the promise to myself that, should I survive my dear wife as I hoped to do "Here, having trimmed my lantern, I straightened myself up to find that Mr. Badcock had returned and was standing behind my shoulder. To my amazement he was trembling like an aspen. "'Hush! said he, when I would have asked what ailed him.
We followed, shouting our comrades' names. No answer came back to us, though our voices must have carried far beyond the next ridge. For an hour we beat the wood, keeping together by my father's order, and shouting, now singly, now in chorus. Nat, likely enough, had pressed forward beyond earshot, and led Mr. Badcock on with him. But what had become of Mr.
Now, the first thing to happen to us in Otta was that we found it empty not so much as a dog in the street but all the inhabitants on the hill above, in a crowd before a mighty great stone: and Badcock would have it that they were gathered together in fear of us. But the true reason turned out to be something quite different.
"There is nothing but to wait for 'em," said my father, seating himself on deck with his musket across his knees. "Mr. Badcock!" "Sir?" "To-day is Sunday." "It is, sir. At home, sir, I have observed that even the rooks count on it." "You have a fine voice, Mr. Badcock, and have been, as I gather, an attentive hearer of sermons." "I may claim that merit, sir."
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