The Cyclopædia of Wit and Humor: Containing Choice and Characteristic Selections from the Writings of the Most Eminent Humorists of America, Ireland, Scotland, and England ...D. Appleton, 1859 |
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762. oldal - Nothin' like it," replied his father. "But don't you think it means more?" inquired Sam. "Veil, p'raps it is a more tenderer word,
721. oldal - Twas but in a sort I blamed thee; None e'er prosper'd who defamed thee; Irony all, and feign'd abuse, Such as perplex'd lovers use, At a need, when, in despair To paint forth their fairest fair, Or in part but to express That exceeding comeliness Which their fancies doth so strike, They borrow language of dislike; And, instead of Dearest Miss, Jewel, Honey, Sweetheart, Bliss, And those forms of old admiring, Call her Cockatrice and Siren, Basilisk, and all that's evil, Witch, Hyena, Mermaid, Devil,...
762. oldal - That's a wery pretty sentiment," said the elder Mr. Weller, removing his pipe to make way for the remark. " Yes, I think it is rayther good," observed Sam, highly flattered. "Wot I like in that 'ere style of writin'," said the elder Mr. Weller, "is, that there ain't no callin' names in it, — no Wenuses, nor nothin' o' that kind. Wot's the good o' callin' a young 'ooman a Wenus or a angel, Sammy ? " " Ah ! what, indeed ?
738. oldal - Echoed from the dungeon stone ; Now the weak and wailing cry Of a stripling's agony ! Cold, by this, was the midnight air ; But the Abbot's blood ran colder, When he saw a gasping knight lie there. With a gash beneath his clotted hair, And a hump upon his shoulder. And the loyal churchman strove in vain To mutter a Pater...
739. oldal - As he came at last to a bishop's mitre ! From top to toe the abbot shook, As the fisherman armed his golden hook ; And awfully were his features wrought By some dark dream or wakened thought. Look how the fearful felon gazes...
762. oldal - That ain't proper," said Mr. Weller, taking his pipe from his mouth. " No ; it ain't damned," observed Sam, holding the letter up to the light, " it's ' shamed,' there's a blot there — ' I feel myself ashamed.' " " Wery good," said Mr. Weller.
763. oldal - ... may have heerd on Mary my dear) altho it does finish a portrait and put the frame and glass on complete with a hook at the end to hang it up by and all in two minutes and a quarter.' " " I am afeerd that werges on the poetical, Sammy,
917. oldal - What is't ye do? What life lead? eh, dull goggles? How do ye vary your vile days and nights? How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes, and bites, And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles?
720. oldal - Some few vapours thou mayst raise The weak brain may serve to amaze, But to the reins and nobler heart Canst nor life nor heat impart. Brother of Bacchus, later born, The old world was sure forlorn Wanting thee, that aidest more The god's victories than before All his panthers, and the brawls Of his piping Bacchanals.
677. oldal - You promised to have half an eye to him, you know you did, you dirty deceitful young drab. The last time as ever I see him, poor thing, was with my own blessed Motherly eyes, Sitting as good as gold in the gutter, a playing at making little dirt pies.