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Updated: June 12, 2025


It was Lessing who in the trenchant prose of his Hamburger Dramaturgie first revolted against the French domination, the strength of which may be judged from the list there given of works performed in the Hamburg theatre from April to July 1767. Of the fifty-two plays there enumerated, fifteen were German, thirty-five French, and two from other languages only one being English.

One minute, two, three minutes, it was a dreadfully long time, and then it was the voice of Abe Selover mixed with a long yelp from Quib. "Come on, boys! I've shoved him through. I'm going right up after him. Nothing to pull away but some sods." "Dat's de tog!" exclaimed Mr. Hamburger. "Keep shtill, black poy! De rest of dose vootshucks is coming. Keep shtill."

It will not unnaturally follow that where there is much liberty there will be some licence, and with respect to Hamburg, it is in her dance-houses that this excess is to be found. But where is the wonder? The Hamburger authorities in this, and some other cases, set up a sort of excise officer, and grant permits for this frivolity, and that vice, at a regular scale of charges.

South Clark Street can transform a winter overcoat into hamburger and onions so quickly that the eye can't follow the hand. Do you gather from this that you are being taken slumming? Not at all. For the passer-by on Clark Street varies as to color, nationality, raiment, finger-nails, and hair-cut according to the locality in which you find him.

At a lunch wagon down near the water front, Bud stopped and bought two "hot dog" sandwiches and a mug of hot coffee boiled with milk in it and sweetened with three cubes of sugar. "O-oh, boy!" he ejaculated gleefully when he set his teeth into biscuit and hot hamburger. Leaning back luxuriously in the big car, he ate and drank until he could eat and drink no more.

Hamburg is an ill, close-built town, swarming with inhabitants, and, from what I could learn, like all the other free towns, governed in a manner which bears hard on the poor, whilst narrowing the minds of the rich; the character of the man is lost in the Hamburger.

A little native girl brought them a dish of Hamburger steak, and after a while the trader came up to see that they had everything they wanted. "I see we have a fellow lodger, Mr Horn," said Dr Macphail. "She's taken a room, that's all," answered the trader. "She's getting her own board." He looked at the two ladies with an obsequious air. "I put her downstairs so she shouldn't be in the way.

While I was driving I spilled some coffee and then some ketchup from my hamburger. I need to change jackets so can you take the one I have on to the cleaners?" Water came down the faucet but it was a parsimonious dribble. She thought to herself that rich people were so stingy about the damnedest of things. She could not hear any water but she did hear him spit into the basin.

He could only nibble his hamburger, slurp his chocolate shake, offer to share some of his onion rings with her, his stout mother, which she finally did take, and remember, as no lobotomy or other expurgation of specific memories was yet in existence.

Hamburger, who was standing under an old butternut-tree and looking down at a round, hollow place in the ground. He was smoking very hard. "Hab you seen my dog?" asked Julius. "Hold shtill, poy! Joost you vait. Hi! Dere goes dose vootshuck!" "Dat's so. He's coming right up out ob de hole, and dar ain't no dog to foller him!" Away went the woodchuck, and Julius gave him up for lost; but Mr.

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