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My terror, as I lay there, of falling ill, and being unfitted forto-morrow, was so besetting, that I wonder it did not disable me ofitself. It would have done so, pretty surely, in conjunction with themental wear and tear I had suffered, but for the unnatural strain uponme that to-morrow was. So anxiously looked forward to, charged withsuch consequences, its results so impenetrably hidden, though so near.No precaution could have been more obvious than our refraining fromcommunication with him that day; yet this again increased myrestlessness. I started at every footstep and every sound, believingthat he was discovered and taken, and this was the messenger to tell meso. I persuaded myself that I knew he was taken; that there wassomething more upon my mind than a fear or a presentiment; that thefact had occurred, and I had a mysterious knowledge of it. As the dayswore on, and no ill news came, as the day closed in and darkness fell, | 1Dickens |
until they left off, of their own will.The President required the name of that citizen. The accused explainedthat the citizen was his first witness. He also referred with confidenceto the citizen’s letter, which had been taken from him at the Barrier,but which he did not doubt would be found among the papers then beforeThe Doctor had taken care that it should be there--had assured him thatit would be there--and at this stage of the proceedings it was producedand read. Citizen Gabelle was called to confirm it, and did so. CitizenGabelle hinted, with infinite delicacy and politeness, that in thepressure of business imposed on the Tribunal by the multitude ofenemies of the Republic with which it had to deal, he had been slightlyoverlooked in his prison of the Abbaye--in fact, had rather passed outof the Tribunal’s patriotic remembrance--until three days ago; when hehad been summoned before it, and had been set at liberty on the Jury’s | 1Dickens |
running dry. Nor would it have been an expectation of a hopeful kind,since a small part of his income was derived from the pilotage of timidwomen (mostly of a full habit and past the middle term of life) fromTellson’s side of the tides to the opposite shore. Brief as suchcompanionship was in every separate instance, Mr. Cruncher never failedto become so interested in the lady as to express a strong desire tohave the honour of drinking her very good health. And it was fromthe gifts bestowed upon him towards the execution of this benevolentpurpose, that he recruited his finances, as just now observed.Time was, when a poet sat upon a stool in a public place, and mused inthe sight of men. Mr. Cruncher, sitting on a stool in a public place,but not being a poet, mused as little as possible, and looked about him.It fell out that he was thus engaged in a season when crowds were | 1Dickens |
in the dark was a City tradesman in the light, and, being recognised andchallenged by his fellow-tradesman whom he stopped in his character of“the Captain,” gallantly shot him through the head and rode away; themail was waylaid by seven robbers, and the guard shot three dead, andthen got shot dead himself by the other four, “in consequence of thefailure of his ammunition:” after which the mail was robbed in peace;that magnificent potentate, the Lord Mayor of London, was made to standand deliver on Turnham Green, by one highwayman, who despoiled theillustrious creature in sight of all his retinue; prisoners in Londongaols fought battles with their turnkeys, and the majesty of the lawfired blunderbusses in among them, loaded with rounds of shot and ball;thieves snipped off diamond crosses from the necks of noble lords atCourt drawing-rooms; musketeers went into St. Giles’s, to searchfor contraband goods, and the mob fired on the musketeers, and the | 1Dickens |
Oxfordshire, and within seven miles of Reading. There is a train fromPaddington which would bring you there at about 11:15.’“‘I shall come down in a carriage to meet you.’“‘There is a drive, then?’“‘Yes, our little place is quite out in the country. It is a good sevenmiles from Eyford Station.’“‘Then we can hardly get there before midnight. I suppose there wouldbe no chance of a train back. I should be compelled to stop the night.’“‘Yes, we could easily give you a shake-down.’“‘That is very awkward. Could I not come at some more convenient hour?’“‘We have judged it best that you should come late. It is to recompenseyou for any inconvenience that we are paying to you, a young andunknown man, a fee which would buy an opinion from the very heads ofyour profession. Still, of course, if you would like to draw out of thebusiness, there is plenty of time to do so.’ | 2Doyle |
| ---|--- | |---|---| | | | | | |Let "persons" be Universe; m="that deserve the fair"; x="that get their deserts"; y="brave". Some m are x; &there4 Some y are x. No y' are m. i.e. Some brave persons get their deserts. | 0 | | | | 0 | 0 | | | | | | | | 0 | | | ---|--- | |---|---| | 0 | | | | | Let "persons" be Universe; m="patient"; x="children"; y="that can sit still". No x are m; &there4 No x are y. No m' are y. i.e. No children can sit still. | 0 | 0 | | | 0 | 1 | | | | 0 | | | | 0 | 1 | | ---|--- | |---|---| | | | | | | Let "things" be Universe; m="fat"; x="pigs"; All x are m; &there4 All x are y'. | 0Caroll |
with some surprise at my friend. “I don’t pretend to know much about these things, and I’d be a better judge of a horse or a steer than of a picture. I didn’t know that you found time for “I know what is good when I see it, and I see it now. That’s a Kneller, I’ll swear, that lady in the blue silk over yonder, and the stout gentleman with the wig ought to be a Reynolds. They are all family portraits, I presume?” “Do you know the names?” “Barrymore has been coaching me in them, and I think I can say my “Who is the gentleman with the telescope?” “That is Rear-Admiral Baskerville, who served under Rodney in the West Indies. The man with the blue coat and the roll of paper is Sir William Baskerville, who was Chairman of Committees of the House of Commons under Pitt.” | 2Doyle |
was upon Monsieur the Marquis by that time; and the shadow was exchangedfor the light of a flambeau, as his carriage stopped, and the great doorof his chateau was opened to him.“Monsieur Charles, whom I expect; is he arrived from England?”It was a heavy mass of building, that chateau of Monsieur the Marquis,with a large stone courtyard before it, and two stone sweeps ofstaircase meeting in a stone terrace before the principal door. A stonybusiness altogether, with heavy stone balustrades, and stone urns, andstone flowers, and stone faces of men, and stone heads of lions, inall directions. As if the Gorgon’s head had surveyed it, when it wasfinished, two centuries ago.Up the broad flight of shallow steps, Monsieur the Marquis, flambeaupreceded, went from his carriage, sufficiently disturbing the darknessto elicit loud remonstrance from an owl in the roof of the great pileof stable building away among the trees. All else was so quiet, that the | 1Dickens |
had a pistol lying on the pillow. Assured of this, I softly removed thekey to the outside of his door, and turned it on him before I again satdown by the fire. Gradually I slipped from the chair and lay on thefloor. When I awoke without having parted in my sleep with theperception of my wretchedness, the clocks of the Eastward churches werestriking five, the candles were wasted out, the fire was dead, and thewind and rain intensified the thick black darkness.THIS IS THE END OF THE SECOND STAGE OF PIP’S EXPECTATIONS.It was fortunate for me that I had to take precautions to ensure (sofar as I could) the safety of my dreaded visitor; for, this thoughtpressing on me when I awoke, held other thoughts in a confusedconcourse at a distance.The impossibility of keeping him concealed in the chambers wasself-evident. It could not be done, and the attempt to do it would | 1Dickens |
Green Copper. After several times falling short of my destination andas often overshooting it, I came unexpectedly round a corner, upon MillPond Bank. It was a fresh kind of place, all circumstances considered,where the wind from the river had room to turn itself round; and therewere two or three trees in it, and there was the stump of a ruinedwindmill, and there was the Old Green Copper Rope-walk,—whose long andnarrow vista I could trace in the moonlight, along a series of woodenframes set in the ground, that looked like superannuatedhaymaking-rakes which had grown old and lost most of their teeth.Selecting from the few queer houses upon Mill Pond Bank a house with awooden front and three stories of bow-window (not bay-window, which isanother thing), I looked at the plate upon the door, and read there,Mrs. Whimple. That being the name I wanted, I knocked, and an elderlywoman of a pleasant and thriving appearance responded. She was | 1Dickens |
“He’s fired! I heerd him!” and I nodded at the old gentleman until itis no figure of speech to declare that I absolutely could not see him.The interval between that time and supper Wemmick devoted to showing mehis collection of curiosities. They were mostly of a feloniouscharacter; comprising the pen with which a celebrated forgery had beencommitted, a distinguished razor or two, some locks of hair, andseveral manuscript confessions written under condemnation,—upon whichMr. Wemmick set particular value as being, to use his own words, “everyone of ’em Lies, sir.” These were agreeably dispersed among smallspecimens of china and glass, various neat trifles made by theproprietor of the museum, and some tobacco-stoppers carved by the Aged.They were all displayed in that chamber of the Castle into which I hadbeen first inducted, and which served, not only as the generalsitting-room but as the kitchen too, if I might judge from a saucepan | 1Dickens |
pick me up again in a minute, _they_ would! However, this conversationis going on a little too fast: let’s go back to the last remark but“I’m afraid I can’t quite remember it,” Alice said very politely.“In that case we start fresh,” said Humpty Dumpty, “and it’s my turn tochoose a subject—” (“He talks about it just as if it was a game!”thought Alice.) “So here’s a question for you. How old did you say youAlice made a short calculation, and said “Seven years and six months.”“Wrong!” Humpty Dumpty exclaimed triumphantly. “You never said a word“I though you meant ‘How old _are_ you?’” Alice explained.“If I’d meant that, I’d have said it,” said Humpty Dumpty.Alice didn’t want to begin another argument, so she said nothing.“Seven years and six months!” Humpty Dumpty repeated thoughtfully. “Anuncomfortable sort of age. Now if you’d asked _my_ advice, I’d havesaid ‘Leave off at seven’—but it’s too late now.” | 0Caroll |
“Do you know, I’ve had such a quantity of poetry repeated to meto-day,” Alice began, a little frightened at finding that, the momentshe opened her lips, there was dead silence, and all eyes were fixedupon her; “and it’s a very curious thing, I think—every poem was aboutfishes in some way. Do you know why they’re so fond of fishes, allShe spoke to the Red Queen, whose answer was a little wide of the mark.“As to fishes,” she said, very slowly and solemnly, putting her mouthclose to Alice’s ear, “her White Majesty knows a lovely riddle—all inpoetry—all about fishes. Shall she repeat it?”“Her Red Majesty’s very kind to mention it,” the White Queen murmuredinto Alice’s other ear, in a voice like the cooing of a pigeon. “Itwould be _such_ a treat! May I?”“Please do,” Alice said very politely.The White Queen laughed with delight, and stroked Alice’s cheek. Then “‘First, the fish must be caught.’ | 0Caroll |
One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back.“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy!O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” He chortled in his joy.’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.“It seems very pretty,” she said when she had finished it, “but it’s_rather_ hard to understand!” (You see she didn’t like to confess, evento herself, that she couldn’t make it out at all.) “Somehow it seems tofill my head with ideas—only I don’t exactly know what they are!However, _somebody_ killed _something_: that’s clear, at any rate—”“But oh!” thought Alice, suddenly jumping up, “if I don’t make haste Ishall have to go back through the Looking-glass, before I’ve seen whatthe rest of the house is like! Let’s have a look at the garden first!” | 0Caroll |
closer in his ear, and frowned heavily.“Why! Because he has lived so long, locked up, that he would befrightened--rave--tear himself to pieces--die--come to I know not whatharm--if his door was left open.”“Is it possible!” exclaimed Mr. Lorry.“Is it possible!” repeated Defarge, bitterly. “Yes. And a beautifulworld we live in, when it _is_ possible, and when many other such thingsare possible, and not only possible, but done--done, see you!--underthat sky there, every day. Long live the Devil. Let us go on.”This dialogue had been held in so very low a whisper, that not a wordof it had reached the young lady’s ears. But, by this time she trembledunder such strong emotion, and her face expressed such deep anxiety,and, above all, such dread and terror, that Mr. Lorry felt it incumbenton him to speak a word or two of reassurance.“Courage, dear miss! Courage! Business! The worst will be over in amoment; it is but passing the room-door, and the worst is over. Then, | 1Dickens |
Mr. Lorry handed him a paper through the throng. “Quick! Have you gotHastily written on the paper was the word “ACQUITTED.”“If you had sent the message, ‘Recalled to Life,’ again,” mutteredJerry, as he turned, “I should have known what you meant, this time.”He had no opportunity of saying, or so much as thinking, anything else,until he was clear of the Old Bailey; for, the crowd came pouring outwith a vehemence that nearly took him off his legs, and a loud buzzswept into the street as if the baffled blue-flies were dispersing insearch of other carrion.From the dimly-lighted passages of the court, the last sediment of thehuman stew that had been boiling there all day, was straining off, whenDoctor Manette, Lucie Manette, his daughter, Mr. Lorry, the solicitorfor the defence, and its counsel, Mr. Stryver, stood gathered round Mr.Charles Darnay--just released--congratulating him on his escape fromIt would have been difficult by a far brighter light, to recognise | 1Dickens |
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return ordestroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in yourpossession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to aProject Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be boundby the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the personor entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only beused on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people whoagree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a fewthings that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic workseven without complying with the full terms of this agreement. Seeparagraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with ProjectGutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this | 0Caroll |
wash off in the sea. But they _have_ their tails in their mouths; andthe reason is--" here the Mock Turtle yawned and shut his eyes. "Tellher about the reason and all that," he said to the Gryphon."The reason is," said the Gryphon, "that they _would_ go with thelobsters to the dance. So they got thrown out to sea. So they had tofall a long way. So they got their tails fast in their mouths. So theycouldn't get them out again. That's all.""Thank you," said Alice. "It's very interesting. I never knew so muchabout a whiting before.""I can tell you more than that, if you like," said the Gryphon. "Do youknow why it's called a whiting?""I never thought about it," said Alice. "Why?""_It does the boots and shoes_," the Gryphon replied very solemnly.Alice was thoroughly puzzled. "Does the boots and shoes!" she repeatedin a wondering tone."Why, what are _your_ shoes done with?" said the Gryphon. "I mean, what | 0Caroll |
simple folk could not be imagined.”“I don’t know about that,” said the other thoughtfully. “They havestrange limits and one must learn to observe them. It is that surfacesimplicity of theirs which makes a trap for the stranger. One’s firstimpression is that they are entirely soft. Then one comes suddenly uponsomething very hard, and you know that you have reached the limit andmust adapt yourself to the fact. They have, for example, their insularconventions which simply _must_ be observed.”“Meaning ‘good form’ and that sort of thing?” Von Bork sighed as onewho had suffered much.“Meaning British prejudice in all its queer manifestations. As anexample I may quote one of my own worst blunders—I can afford to talkof my blunders, for you know my work well enough to be aware of mysuccesses. It was on my first arrival. I was invited to a week-endgathering at the country house of a cabinet minister. The conversation | 2Doyle |
at Lestrade. “You hear! He gives me hopes.”Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. “I am afraid that my colleague hasbeen a little quick in forming his conclusions,” he said.“But he is right. Oh! I know that he is right. James never did it. Andabout his quarrel with his father, I am sure that the reason why hewould not speak about it to the coroner was because I was concerned in“In what way?” asked Holmes.“It is no time for me to hide anything. James and his father had manydisagreements about me. Mr. McCarthy was very anxious that there shouldbe a marriage between us. James and I have always loved each other asbrother and sister; but of course he is young and has seen very littleof life yet, and—and—well, he naturally did not wish to do anythinglike that yet. So there were quarrels, and this, I am sure, was one of“And your father?” asked Holmes. “Was he in favour of such a union?” | 2Doyle |
that part of the pudding had stuck to the saucepan and got burnt. Thiswas my homely thought, as I contemplated the box-tree. There had beensome light snow, overnight, and it lay nowhere else to my knowledge;but, it had not quite melted from the cold shadow of this bit ofgarden, and the wind caught it up in little eddies and threw it at thewindow, as if it pelted me for coming there.I divined that my coming had stopped conversation in the room, and thatits other occupants were looking at me. I could see nothing of the roomexcept the shining of the fire in the window-glass, but I stiffened inall my joints with the consciousness that I was under close inspection.There were three ladies in the room and one gentleman. Before I hadbeen standing at the window five minutes, they somehow conveyed to methat they were all toadies and humbugs, but that each of them pretended | 1Dickens |
out so many things.”“Fan her head!” the Red Queen anxiously interrupted. “She’ll befeverish after so much thinking.” So they set to work and fanned herwith bunches of leaves, till she had to beg them to leave off, it blewher hair about so.“She’s all right again now,” said the Red Queen. “Do you knowLanguages? What’s the French for fiddle-de-dee?”“Fiddle-de-dee’s not English,” Alice replied gravely.“Who ever said it was?” said the Red Queen.Alice thought she saw a way out of the difficulty this time. “If you’lltell me what language ‘fiddle-de-dee’ is, I’ll tell you the French forit!” she exclaimed triumphantly.But the Red Queen drew herself up rather stiffly, and said “Queens“I wish Queens never asked questions,” Alice thought to herself.“Don’t let us quarrel,” the White Queen said in an anxious tone. “Whatis the cause of lightning?”“The cause of lightning,” Alice said very decidedly, for she felt quitecertain about this, “is the thunder—no, no!” she hastily corrected | 0Caroll |
hospital and yet not on the staff he could only have been a house-surgeon or a house-physician—little more than a senior student. And he left five years ago—the date is on the stick. So your grave, middle-aged family practitioner vanishes into thin air, my dear Watson, and there emerges a young fellow under thirty, amiable, unambitious, absent-minded, and the possessor of a favourite dog, which I should describe roughly as being larger than a terrier and smaller than a mastiff.” I laughed incredulously as Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his settee and blew little wavering rings of smoke up to the ceiling. “As to the latter part, I have no means of checking you,” said I, “but at least it is not difficult to find out a few particulars about the man’s age and professional career.” From my small medical shelf I took down the Medical Directory and turned up the | 2Doyle |
“I hope you care to live?”Dig--dig--dig--until an impatient movement from one of the twopassengers would admonish him to pull up the window, draw his armsecurely through the leathern strap, and speculate upon the twoslumbering forms, until his mind lost its hold of them, and they againslid away into the bank and the grave.“You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?”The words were still in his hearing as just spoken--distinctly inhis hearing as ever spoken words had been in his life--when the wearypassenger started to the consciousness of daylight, and found that theshadows of the night were gone.He lowered the window, and looked out at the rising sun. There was aridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon it where it had been leftlast night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a quiet coppice-wood,in which many leaves of burning red and golden yellow still remainedupon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear, | 1Dickens |
fortress on it used as a prison. Round upon all these darkening objectsas the night drew on, the Marquis looked, with the air of one who wasThe village had its one poor street, with its poor brewery, poortannery, poor tavern, poor stable-yard for relays of post-horses, poorfountain, all usual poor appointments. It had its poor people too. Allits people were poor, and many of them were sitting at their doors,shredding spare onions and the like for supper, while many were at thefountain, washing leaves, and grasses, and any such small yieldings ofthe earth that could be eaten. Expressive signs of what made them poor,were not wanting; the tax for the state, the tax for the church, the taxfor the lord, tax local and tax general, were to be paid here and to bepaid there, according to solemn inscription in the little village, untilthe wonder was, that there was any village left unswallowed. | 1Dickens |
make a tool of me afresh and again? Once more? No, no, no. If I haddied at the bottom there,” and he made an emphatic swing at the ditchwith his manacled hands, “I’d have held to him with that grip, that youshould have been safe to find him in my hold.”The other fugitive, who was evidently in extreme horror of hiscompanion, repeated, “He tried to murder me. I should have been a deadman if you had not come up.”“He lies!” said my convict, with fierce energy. “He’s a liar born, andhe’ll die a liar. Look at his face; ain’t it written there? Let himturn those eyes of his on me. I defy him to do it.”The other, with an effort at a scornful smile, which could not,however, collect the nervous working of his mouth into any setexpression, looked at the soldiers, and looked about at the marshes andat the sky, but certainly did not look at the speaker. | 1Dickens |
But the woman who stood knitting looked up steadily, and looked theMarquis in the face. It was not for his dignity to notice it; hiscontemptuous eyes passed over her, and over all the other rats; and heleaned back in his seat again, and gave the word “Go on!”He was driven on, and other carriages came whirling by in quicksuccession; the Minister, the State-Projector, the Farmer-General, theDoctor, the Lawyer, the Ecclesiastic, the Grand Opera, the Comedy, thewhole Fancy Ball in a bright continuous flow, came whirling by. The ratshad crept out of their holes to look on, and they remained lookingon for hours; soldiers and police often passing between them and thespectacle, and making a barrier behind which they slunk, and throughwhich they peeped. The father had long ago taken up his bundle andbidden himself away with it, when the women who had tended the bundlewhile it lay on the base of the fountain, sat there watching the running | 1Dickens |
should be better able to advise you.”The man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room inuncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he torethe mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground. “You are right,”he cried; “I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it?”“Why, indeed?” murmured Holmes. “Your Majesty had not spoken before Iwas aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigismond vonOrmstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, and hereditary King of“But you can understand,” said our strange visitor, sitting down oncemore and passing his hand over his high white forehead, “you canunderstand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in my ownperson. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not confide it toan agent without putting myself in his power. I have come _incognito_from Prague for the purpose of consulting you.”“Then, pray consult,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more. | 2Doyle |
outside person affected the card-players, how can we reconstruct thatperson, and how was such an impression of horror conveyed? Mrs. Portermay be eliminated. She is evidently harmless. Is there any evidencethat someone crept up to the garden window and in some manner producedso terrific an effect that he drove those who saw it out of theirsenses? The only suggestion in this direction comes from MortimerTregennis himself, who says that his brother spoke about some movementin the garden. That is certainly remarkable, as the night was rainy,cloudy, and dark. Anyone who had the design to alarm these people wouldbe compelled to place his very face against the glass before he couldbe seen. There is a three-foot flower-border outside this window, butno indication of a footmark. It is difficult to imagine, then, how anoutsider could have made so terrible an impression upon the company,nor have we found any possible motive for so strange and elaborate an | 2Doyle |
Instead of answering, Estella burst out laughing. This was verysingular to me, and I looked at her in considerable perplexity. Whenshe left off—and she had not laughed languidly, but with realenjoyment—I said, in my diffident way with her,—“I hope I may suppose that you would not be amused if they did me any“No, no you may be sure of that,” said Estella. “You may be certainthat I laugh because they fail. O, those people with Miss Havisham, andthe tortures they undergo!” She laughed again, and even now when shehad told me why, her laughter was very singular to me, for I could notdoubt its being genuine, and yet it seemed too much for the occasion. Ithought there must really be something more here than I knew; she sawthe thought in my mind, and answered it.“It is not easy for even you.” said Estella, “to know what satisfactionit gives me to see those people thwarted, or what an enjoyable sense of | 1Dickens |
who stood at his door and yawned at the chemist. The watchmaker, alwaysporing over a little desk with a magnifying-glass at his eye, andalways inspected by a group of smock-frocks poring over him through theglass of his shop-window, seemed to be about the only person in theHigh Street whose trade engaged his attention.Mr. Pumblechook and I breakfasted at eight o’clock in the parlourbehind the shop, while the shopman took his mug of tea and hunch ofbread and butter on a sack of peas in the front premises. I consideredMr. Pumblechook wretched company. Besides being possessed by mysister’s idea that a mortifying and penitential character ought to beimparted to my diet,—besides giving me as much crumb as possible incombination with as little butter, and putting such a quantity of warmwater into my milk that it would have been more candid to have left themilk out altogether,—his conversation consisted of nothing but | 1Dickens |
minutes,’ said he, throwing open another door. It was a quiet, little,plainly furnished room, with a round table in the centre, on whichseveral German books were scattered. Colonel Stark laid down the lampon the top of a harmonium beside the door. ‘I shall not keep youwaiting an instant,’ said he, and vanished into the darkness.“I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my ignorance ofGerman I could see that two of them were treatises on science, theothers being volumes of poetry. Then I walked across to the window,hoping that I might catch some glimpse of the country-side, but an oakshutter, heavily barred, was folded across it. It was a wonderfullysilent house. There was an old clock ticking loudly somewhere in thepassage, but otherwise everything was deadly still. A vague feeling ofuneasiness began to steal over me. Who were these German people, andwhat were they doing living in this strange, out-of-the-way place? And | 2Doyle |
about him, which was new to the observation of Charles Darnay.He watched his opportunity of taking Darnay aside into a window, and ofspeaking to him when no one overheard.“Mr. Darnay,” said Carton, “I wish we might be friends.”“We are already friends, I hope.”“You are good enough to say so, as a fashion of speech; but, I don’tmean any fashion of speech. Indeed, when I say I wish we might befriends, I scarcely mean quite that, either.”Charles Darnay--as was natural--asked him, in all good-humour andgood-fellowship, what he did mean?“Upon my life,” said Carton, smiling, “I find that easier to comprehendin my own mind, than to convey to yours. However, let me try. Youremember a certain famous occasion when I was more drunk than--than“I remember a certain famous occasion when you forced me to confess thatyou had been drinking.”“I remember it too. The curse of those occasions is heavy upon me, for I | 1Dickens |
compensation have kept him out of the courts.“Well, now, Watson, let us judge the situation by this new information.We may take it that the letter came out of this strange household andwas an invitation to Garcia to carry out some attempt which had alreadybeen planned. Who wrote the note? It was someone within the citadel,and it was a woman. Who then but Miss Burnet, the governess? All ourreasoning seems to point that way. At any rate, we may take it as ahypothesis and see what consequences it would entail. I may add thatMiss Burnet’s age and character make it certain that my first idea thatthere might be a love interest in our story is out of the question.“If she wrote the note she was presumably the friend and confederate ofGarcia. What, then, might she be expected to do if she heard of hisdeath? If he met it in some nefarious enterprise her lips might be | 2Doyle |
few hours. When I awoke, the wind had risen, and the sign of the house(the Ship) was creaking and banging about, with noises that startledme. Rising softly, for my charge lay fast asleep, I looked out of thewindow. It commanded the causeway where we had hauled up our boat, and,as my eyes adapted themselves to the light of the clouded moon, I sawtwo men looking into her. They passed by under the window, looking atnothing else, and they did not go down to the landing-place which Icould discern to be empty, but struck across the marsh in the directionMy first impulse was to call up Herbert, and show him the two men goingaway. But reflecting, before I got into his room, which was at the backof the house and adjoined mine, that he and Startop had had a harderday than I, and were fatigued, I forbore. Going back to my window, I | 1Dickens |
of Saint Pancras-in-the-Fields. His unpopularity with the blackguardmultitude at the moment prevented my following his remains, but I helpedto lay him in his coffin.”Here, Mr. Lorry became aware, from where he sat, of a most remarkablegoblin shadow on the wall. Tracing it to its source, he discovered itto be caused by a sudden extraordinary rising and stiffening of all therisen and stiff hair on Mr. Cruncher’s head.“Let us be reasonable,” said the spy, “and let us be fair. To show youhow mistaken you are, and what an unfounded assumption yours is, I willlay before you a certificate of Cly’s burial, which I happened to havecarried in my pocket-book,” with a hurried hand he produced and openedit, “ever since. There it is. Oh, look at it, look at it! You may takeit in your hand; it’s no forgery.”Here, Mr. Lorry perceived the reflection on the wall to elongate, andMr. Cruncher rose and stepped forward. His hair could not have been more | 1Dickens |
few, and belated women few, and when his affairs in general were sounprosperous as to awaken a strong suspicion in his breast that Mrs.Cruncher must have been “flopping” in some pointed manner, when anunusual concourse pouring down Fleet-street westward, attracted hisattention. Looking that way, Mr. Cruncher made out that some kind offuneral was coming along, and that there was popular objection to thisfuneral, which engendered uproar.“Young Jerry,” said Mr. Cruncher, turning to his offspring, “it’s a“Hooroar, father!” cried Young Jerry.The young gentleman uttered this exultant sound with mysterioussignificance. The elder gentleman took the cry so ill, that he watchedhis opportunity, and smote the young gentleman on the ear.“What d’ye mean? What are you hooroaring at? What do you want to conweyto your own father, you young Rip? This boy is a getting too many for_me_!” said Mr. Cruncher, surveying him. “Him and his hooroars! Don’tlet me hear no more of you, or you shall feel some more of me. D’ye | 1Dickens |
discourse, “is wot I would respectfully offer to you, sir. A man don’tsee all this here a goin’ on dreadful round him, in the way of Subjectswithout heads, dear me, plentiful enough fur to bring the price downto porterage and hardly that, without havin’ his serious thoughts ofthings. And these here would be mine, if it wos so, entreatin’ of youfur to bear in mind that wot I said just now, I up and said in the goodcause when I might have kep’ it back.”“That at least is true,” said Mr. Lorry. “Say no more now. It may bethat I shall yet stand your friend, if you deserve it, and repent inaction--not in words. I want no more words.”Mr. Cruncher knuckled his forehead, as Sydney Carton and the spyreturned from the dark room. “Adieu, Mr. Barsad,” said the former; “ourarrangement thus made, you have nothing to fear from me.”He sat down in a chair on the hearth, over against Mr. Lorry. When they | 1Dickens |
of ruin, it was not a time to yield to such emotions. His lonelydaughter, bereft of her final hope and reliance, appealed to them bothtoo strongly. Again, as if by agreement, they looked at one another withone meaning in their faces. Carton was the first to speak:“The last chance is gone: it was not much. Yes; he had better be takento her. But, before you go, will you, for a moment, steadily attend tome? Don’t ask me why I make the stipulations I am going to make, andexact the promise I am going to exact; I have a reason--a good one.”“I do not doubt it,” answered Mr. Lorry. “Say on.”The figure in the chair between them, was all the time monotonouslyrocking itself to and fro, and moaning. They spoke in such a tone asthey would have used if they had been watching by a sick-bed in theCarton stooped to pick up the coat, which lay almost entangling his | 1Dickens |
brooding over that enormous wilderness of peat and granite which lay before him. He might have been the very spirit of that terrible place. It was not the convict. This man was far from the place where the latter had disappeared. Besides, he was a much taller man. With a cry of surprise I pointed him out to the baronet, but in the instant during which I had turned to grasp his arm the man was gone. There was the sharp pinnacle of granite still cutting the lower edge of the moon, but its peak bore no trace of that silent and motionless figure. I wished to go in that direction and to search the tor, but it was some distance away. The baronet’s nerves were still quivering from that cry, which recalled the dark story of his family, and he was not in the mood for fresh adventures. He had not seen this | 2Doyle |
bell on the table, “and accept your natural destiny. But you are lost,Monsieur Charles, I see.”“This property and France are lost to me,” said the nephew, sadly; “I“Are they both yours to renounce? France may be, but is the property? Itis scarcely worth mentioning; but, is it yet?”“I had no intention, in the words I used, to claim it yet. If it passedto me from you, to-morrow--”“Which I have the vanity to hope is not probable.”“--or twenty years hence--”“You do me too much honour,” said the Marquis; “still, I prefer that“--I would abandon it, and live otherwise and elsewhere. It is little torelinquish. What is it but a wilderness of misery and ruin!”“Hah!” said the Marquis, glancing round the luxurious room.“To the eye it is fair enough, here; but seen in its integrity,under the sky, and by the daylight, it is a crumbling tower of waste,mismanagement, extortion, debt, mortgage, oppression, hunger, nakedness, | 1Dickens |
Eccles, which could only have been done for the purpose of an alibi. Itwas Garcia, then, who had an enterprise, and apparently a criminalenterprise, in hand that night in the course of which he met his death.I say ‘criminal’ because only a man with a criminal enterprise desiresto establish an alibi. Who, then, is most likely to have taken hislife? Surely the person against whom the criminal enterprise wasdirected. So far it seems to me that we are on safe ground.“We can now see a reason for the disappearance of Garcia’s household.They were _all_ confederates in the same unknown crime. If it came offwhen Garcia returned, any possible suspicion would be warded off by theEnglishman’s evidence, and all would be well. But the attempt was adangerous one, and if Garcia did _not_ return by a certain hour it wasprobable that his own life had been sacrificed. It had been arranged, | 2Doyle |
superscribed to “Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To be left till called for.” Myfriend tore it open, and we all three read it together. It was dated atmidnight of the preceding night and ran in this way: “MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES,—You really did it very well. You took me in completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I had not a suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed myself, I began to think. I had been warned against you months ago. I had been told that, if the King employed an agent, it would certainly be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all this, you made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I became suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind old clergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actress myself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage of the | 2Doyle |
“What do you want with the coffin? It is in use. There is a body in“I must see the body.”“Never with my consent.”“Then without it.” With a quick movement Holmes pushed the fellow toone side and passed into the hall. A door half opened stood immediatelybefore us. We entered. It was the dining-room. On the table, under ahalf-lit chandelier, the coffin was lying. Holmes turned up the gas andraised the lid. Deep down in the recesses of the coffin lay anemaciated figure. The glare from the lights above beat down upon anaged and withered face. By no possible process of cruelty, starvation,or disease could this worn-out wreck be the still beautiful LadyFrances. Holmes’s face showed his amazement, and also his relief.“Thank God!” he muttered. “It’s someone else.”“Ah, you’ve blundered badly for once, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” saidPeters, who had followed us into the room.“Who is the dead woman?”“Well, if you really must know, she is an old nurse of my wife’s, Rose | 2Doyle |
that night of all nights in the year, and I asked the watchman, on thechance of eliciting some hopeful explanation as I handed him a dram atthe door, whether he had admitted at his gate any gentleman who hadperceptibly been dining out? Yes, he said; at different times of thenight, three. One lived in Fountain Court, and the other two lived inthe Lane, and he had seen them all go home. Again, the only other manwho dwelt in the house of which my chambers formed a part had been inthe country for some weeks, and he certainly had not returned in thenight, because we had seen his door with his seal on it as we came“The night being so bad, sir,” said the watchman, as he gave me back myglass, “uncommon few have come in at my gate. Besides them threegentlemen that I have named, I don’t call to mind another since about | 1Dickens |
him, almost at the last. “Poor Carton! Kiss him for me!”Mr. Stryver shouldered his way through the law, like some great engineforcing itself through turbid water, and dragged his useful friend inhis wake, like a boat towed astern. As the boat so favoured is usuallyin a rough plight, and mostly under water, so, Sydney had a swampedlife of it. But, easy and strong custom, unhappily so much easier andstronger in him than any stimulating sense of desert or disgrace, madeit the life he was to lead; and he no more thought of emerging from hisstate of lion’s jackal, than any real jackal may be supposed to think ofrising to be a lion. Stryver was rich; had married a florid widow withproperty and three boys, who had nothing particularly shining about thembut the straight hair of their dumpling heads.These three young gentlemen, Mr. Stryver, exuding patronage of the mostoffensive quality from every pore, had walked before him like three | 1Dickens |
“I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr. Holmes. Fromnorth, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red in hishair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. FleetStreet was choked with red-headed folk, and Pope’s Court looked like acoster’s orange barrow. I should not have thought there were so many inthe whole country as were brought together by that singleadvertisement. Every shade of colour they were—straw, lemon, orange,brick, Irish-setter, liver, clay; but, as Spaulding said, there werenot many who had the real vivid flame-coloured tint. When I saw howmany were waiting, I would have given it up in despair; but Spauldingwould not hear of it. How he did it I could not imagine, but he pushedand pulled and butted until he got me through the crowd, and right upto the steps which led to the office. There was a double stream upon | 2Doyle |
devil and a monster, and there can be no judge in the world who wouldpunish my husband for having killed him.”“In that case,” said Holmes, “my suggestion is that we lock this door,leave things as we found them, go with this lady to her room, and formour opinion after we have heard what it is that she has to say to us.”Half an hour later we were seated, all four, in the small sitting-roomof Signora Lucca, listening to her remarkable narrative of thosesinister events, the ending of which we had chanced to witness. Shespoke in rapid and fluent but very unconventional English, which, forthe sake of clearness, I will make grammatical.“I was born in Posilippo, near Naples,” said she, “and was the daughterof Augusto Barelli, who was the chief lawyer and once the deputy ofthat part. Gennaro was in my father’s employment, and I came to lovehim, as any woman must. He had neither money nor position—nothing but | 2Doyle |
performed, viewed, copied or distributed: This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work isderived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does notcontain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of thecopyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone inthe United States without paying any fees or charges. If you areredistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “ProjectGutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply | 0Caroll |
'Predicate'. For example, "some new Cakes are not nice", that is(written in full) "some new Cakes are not nice Cakes"; where theclass "new Cakes" is the Subject, and the class "not-nice Cakes"6. A Proposition, stating that SOME of the Things belonging toits Subject are so-and-so, is called 'Particular'. For example,"some new Cakes are nice", "some new Cakes are not nice."A Proposition, stating that NONE of the Things belonging to itsSubject, or that ALL of them, are so-and-so, is called 'Universal'.For example, "no new Cakes are nice", "all new Cakes are not nice".7. The Things in each compartment possess TWO Attributes, whosesymbols will be found written on two of the EDGES of that compartment.8. "One or more."9. As a name of the class of Things to which the whole Diagram is10. A Proposition containing two statements. For example, "somenew Cakes are nice and some are not-nice."11. When the whole class, thus divided, is "exhausted" among the | 0Caroll |
NOT include ours. For example, "some Welsh hippopotami are heavy"would be TRUE, according to these writers (since the Attributes"Welsh" and "heavy" are quite COMPATIBLE in a hippopotamus), butit would be FALSE in our Game (since there are no Welsh hippopotamiSecondly, take "no x are y". Here WE only understand "are" tomean "are, as an actual FACT"--which does not at all imply that nox CAN be y. But THEY understand the Proposition to mean, not onlythat none ARE y, but that none CAN POSSIBLY be y. So they meanmore than we do: their meaning includes ours (for of course "no xCAN be y" includes "no x ARE y"), but ours does NOT include theirs.For example, "no Policemen are eight feet high" would be TRUEin our Game (since, as an actual fact, no such splendid specimensare ever found), but it would be FALSE, according to these writers(since the Attributes "belonging to the Police Force" and "eight | 0Caroll |
phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed,performed, viewed, copied or distributed: This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work isderived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does notcontain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of thecopyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone inthe United States without paying any fees or charges. If you areredistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project | 1Dickens |
deductions have suddenly assumed a much more important and lessinnocent aspect. Here is the stone; the stone came from the goose, andthe goose came from Mr. Henry Baker, the gentleman with the bad hat andall the other characteristics with which I have bored you. So now wemust set ourselves very seriously to finding this gentleman andascertaining what part he has played in this little mystery. To dothis, we must try the simplest means first, and these lie undoubtedlyin an advertisement in all the evening papers. If this fail, I shallhave recourse to other methods.”“What will you say?”“Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Now, then: ‘Found at thecorner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. Henry Bakercan have the same by applying at 6:30 this evening at 221B, BakerStreet.’ That is clear and concise.”“Very. But will he see it?”“Well, he is sure to keep an eye on the papers, since, to a poor man, | 2Doyle |
from me that, although there might be many cases in which theforfeiture would not be exacted, there were no circumstances in thiscase to make it one of them. I understood that very well. I was notrelated to the outlaw, or connected with him by any recognisable tie;he had put his hand to no writing or settlement in my favour before hisapprehension, and to do so now would be idle. I had no claim, and Ifinally resolved, and ever afterwards abided by the resolution, that myheart should never be sickened with the hopeless task of attempting toThere appeared to be reason for supposing that the drowned informer hadhoped for a reward out of this forfeiture, and had obtained someaccurate knowledge of Magwitch’s affairs. When his body was found, manymiles from the scene of his death, and so horribly disfigured that hewas only recognisable by the contents of his pockets, notes were still | 1Dickens |
Sherlock Holmes waved our strange visitor into a chair. “You are an enthusiast in your line of thought, I perceive, sir, as I am in mine,” said he. “I observe from your forefinger that you make your own cigarettes. Have no hesitation in lighting one.” The man drew out paper and tobacco and twirled the one up in the other with surprising dexterity. He had long, quivering fingers as agile and restless as the antennæ of an insect. Holmes was silent, but his little darting glances showed me the interest which he took in our curious companion. “I presume, sir,” said he at last, “that it was not merely for the purpose of examining my skull that you have done me the honour to call here last night and again today?” “No, sir, no; though I am happy to have had the opportunity of doing that as well. I came to you, Mr. Holmes, because I | 2Doyle |
common female name in Spain.”“Good, Watson, very good—but quite inadmissable. A Spaniard would writeto a Spaniard in Spanish. The writer of this note is certainly English.Well, we can only possess our soul in patience until this excellentinspector come back for us. Meanwhile we can thank our lucky fate whichhas rescued us for a few short hours from the insufferable fatigues ofAn answer had arrived to Holmes’s telegram before our Surrey officerhad returned. Holmes read it and was about to place it in his notebookwhen he caught a glimpse of my expectant face. He tossed it across with“We are moving in exalted circles,” said he.The telegram was a list of names and addresses:Lord Harringby, The Dingle; Sir George Ffolliott, Oxshott Towers; Mr.Hynes Hynes, J.P., Purdley Place; Mr. James Baker Williams, Forton OldHall; Mr. Henderson, High Gable; Rev. Joshua Stone, Nether Walsling.“This is a very obvious way of limiting our field of operations,” said | 2Doyle |
“We want to know something about that man—and about you. It is strangeto know no more about either, and particularly you, than I was able totell last night. Is not this as good a time as another for our knowing“Well!” he said, after consideration. “You’re on your oath, you know,“As to anything I say, you know,” he insisted. “The oath applies to“I understand it to do so.”“And look’ee here! Wotever I done is worked out and paid for,” heHe took out his black pipe and was going to fill it with negro-head,when, looking at the tangle of tobacco in his hand, he seemed to thinkit might perplex the thread of his narrative. He put it back again,stuck his pipe in a button-hole of his coat, spread a hand on eachknee, and after turning an angry eye on the fire for a few silentmoments, looked round at us and said what follows. | 1Dickens |
5. | 1 | 6. | | 0 | | | | | | | 7. | 1 | 1 | It might be thought that the properDiagram would be | 1 1 |, in order to express "somex exist": but this is really contained in "some x are y'."To put a red counter on the division-line would only tellus "ONE OF THE compartments is occupied", which weknow already, in knowing that ONE is occupied. 8. No x are y. i.e. | 0 | | 9. Some x are y'. i.e. | | 1 | 10. All x are y. i.e. | 1 | 0 | 11. Some x are y. i.e. | 1 | | 12. No x are y. i.e. | 0 | | 13. Some x are y, and some are y'. i.e. | 1 | 1 | 14. All x are y'. i.e. | 0 | 1 | | 0Caroll |
She was out of the room in a moment, and ran down stairs—or, at least,it wasn’t exactly running, but a new invention of hers for getting downstairs quickly and easily, as Alice said to herself. She just kept thetips of her fingers on the hand-rail, and floated gently down withouteven touching the stairs with her feet; then she floated on through thehall, and would have gone straight out at the door in the same way, ifshe hadn’t caught hold of the door-post. She was getting a little giddywith so much floating in the air, and was rather glad to find herselfwalking again in the natural way.The Garden of Live Flowers“I should see the garden far better,” said Alice to herself, “if Icould get to the top of that hill: and here’s a path that leadsstraight to it—at least, no, it doesn’t do that—” (after going a fewyards along the path, and turning several sharp corners), “but I | 0Caroll |
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directly, quite as a matter of course. When I saw him in the room hehad this expressive pocket-handkerchief in both hands, and was lookingat us. On meeting my eye, he said plainly, by a momentary and silentpause in that attitude, “Indeed? Singular!” and then put thehandkerchief to its right use with wonderful effect.Miss Havisham had seen him as soon as I, and was (like everybody else)afraid of him. She made a strong attempt to compose herself, andstammered that he was as punctual as ever.“As punctual as ever,” he repeated, coming up to us. “(How do you do,Pip? Shall I give you a ride, Miss Havisham? Once round?) And so youI told him when I had arrived, and how Miss Havisham had wished me tocome and see Estella. To which he replied, “Ah! Very fine young lady!”Then he pushed Miss Havisham in her chair before him, with one of hislarge hands, and put the other in his trousers-pocket as if the pocket | 1Dickens |
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terrors with a steady head. No man better known than he, in Paris atthat day; no man in a stranger situation. Silent, humane, indispensablein hospital and prison, using his art equally among assassins andvictims, he was a man apart. In the exercise of his skill, theappearance and the story of the Bastille Captive removed him from allother men. He was not suspected or brought in question, any more than ifhe had indeed been recalled to life some eighteen years before, or werea Spirit moving among mortals.One year and three months. During all that time Lucie was neversure, from hour to hour, but that the Guillotine would strike off herhusband’s head next day. Every day, through the stony streets, thetumbrils now jolted heavily, filled with Condemned. Lovely girls; brightwomen, brown-haired, black-haired, and grey; youths; stalwart men andold; gentle born and peasant born; all red wine for La Guillotine, alldaily brought into light from the dark cellars of the loathsome prisons, | 1Dickens |
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain impliedwarranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types ofdamages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreementviolates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, theagreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer orlimitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity orunenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, thetrademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyoneproviding copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works inaccordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with theproduction, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any ofthe following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of thisor any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or | 1Dickens |
it and smooth it again.”With a deprecatory grunt, the jackal again complied.“The old Sydney Carton of old Shrewsbury School,” said Stryver, noddinghis head over him as he reviewed him in the present and the past, “theold seesaw Sydney. Up one minute and down the next; now in spirits and“Ah!” returned the other, sighing: “yes! The same Sydney, with the sameluck. Even then, I did exercises for other boys, and seldom did my own.”“God knows. It was my way, I suppose.”He sat, with his hands in his pockets and his legs stretched out beforehim, looking at the fire.“Carton,” said his friend, squaring himself at him with a bullying air,as if the fire-grate had been the furnace in which sustained endeavourwas forged, and the one delicate thing to be done for the old SydneyCarton of old Shrewsbury School was to shoulder him into it, “your wayis, and always was, a lame way. You summon no energy and purpose. Look | 1Dickens |
She had hardly listened to his instructions when she saw you comingdownstairs, on which she closed the window rapidly and told you aboutone of the servants’ escapade with her wooden-legged lover, which was“Your boy, Arthur, went to bed after his interview with you but heslept badly on account of his uneasiness about his club debts. In themiddle of the night he heard a soft tread pass his door, so he roseand, looking out, was surprised to see his cousin walking verystealthily along the passage until she disappeared into yourdressing-room. Petrified with astonishment, the lad slipped on someclothes and waited there in the dark to see what would come of thisstrange affair. Presently she emerged from the room again, and in thelight of the passage-lamp your son saw that she carried the preciouscoronet in her hands. She passed down the stairs, and he, thrillingwith horror, ran along and slipped behind the curtain near your door, | 2Doyle |
You would shake your head mournfully, and would remark "DefectiveConclusion! Poor little chap!" And perhaps you would ask theyoung lady behind the counter whether she would let YOU eat thebun, which the little boy had paid for and left behind him: andperhaps SHE would reply "Sha'n't!"But if, in the above example, the writer had drawn the Conclusion"All misers are selfish" (that is, "All y are x"), this wouldbe going BEYOND his legitimate rights (since it would assert theEXISTENCE of y, which is not contained in the Premisses), and youwould very properly say "Fallacious Conclusion!"Now, when you read other treatises on Logic, you will meet withvarious kinds of (so-called) 'Fallacies' which are by no meansALWAYS so. For example, if you were to put before one of theseLogicians the Pair of Premisses "No honest men cheat; No dishonest men are trustworthy."and were to ask him what Conclusion followed, he would probably say | 0Caroll |
This time it was a White Knight. He drew up at Alice’s side, andtumbled off his horse just as the Red Knight had done: then he got onagain, and the two Knights sat and looked at each other for some timewithout speaking. Alice looked from one to the other in some“She’s _my_ prisoner, you know!” the Red Knight said at last.“Yes, but then _I_ came and rescued her!” the White Knight replied.“Well, we must fight for her, then,” said the Red Knight, as he took uphis helmet (which hung from the saddle, and was something the shape ofa horse’s head), and put it on.“You will observe the Rules of Battle, of course?” the White Knightremarked, putting on his helmet too.“I always do,” said the Red Knight, and they began banging away at eachother with such fury that Alice got behind a tree to be out of the way“I wonder, now, what the Rules of Battle are,” she said to herself, as | 0Caroll |
"I think I should understand that better," Alice said very politely, "ifI had it written down: but I can't quite follow it as you say it.""That's nothing to what I could say if I chose," the Duchess replied, in"Pray don't trouble yourself to say it any longer than that," said"Oh, don't talk about trouble!" said the Duchess. "I make you a presentof everything I've said as yet.""A cheap sort of present!" thought Alice. "I'm glad they don't givebirthday presents like that!" But she did not venture to say it out"Thinking again?" the Duchess asked with another dig of her sharp little"I've a right to think," said Alice sharply, for she was beginning tofeel a little worried."Just about as much right," said the Duchess, "as pigs have to fly; andBut here, to Alice's great surprise, the Duchess's voice died away, evenin the middle of her favourite word "moral," and the arm that was linked | 0Caroll |
from her shoulder, and lay like a heavy lump in her lap. “I don’t thinkit _ever_ happened before, that any one had to take care of two Queensasleep at once! No, not in all the History of England—it couldn’t, youknow, because there never was more than one Queen at a time. Do wakeup, you heavy things!” she went on in an impatient tone; but there wasno answer but a gentle snoring.The snoring got more distinct every minute, and sounded more like atune: at last she could even make out the words, and she listened soeagerly that, when the two great heads vanished from her lap, sheShe was standing before an arched doorway over which were the wordsQUEEN ALICE in large letters, and on each side of the arch there was abell-handle; one was marked “Visitors’ Bell,” and the other “Servants’“I’ll wait till the song’s over,” thought Alice, “and then I’ll | 0Caroll |
there. I wondered whether the two swollen faces were of Mr. Jaggers’sfamily, and, if he were so unfortunate as to have had a pair of suchill-looking relations, why he stuck them on that dusty perch for theblacks and flies to settle on, instead of giving them a place at home.Of course I had no experience of a London summer day, and my spiritsmay have been oppressed by the hot exhausted air, and by the dust andgrit that lay thick on everything. But I sat wondering and waiting inMr. Jaggers’s close room, until I really could not bear the two castson the shelf above Mr. Jaggers’s chair, and got up and went out.When I told the clerk that I would take a turn in the air while Iwaited, he advised me to go round the corner and I should come intoSmithfield. So I came into Smithfield; and the shameful place, being | 1Dickens |
perfectly quiet day with the Aged,—he’ll be up presently,—and a littlebit of—you remember the pig?”“Of course,” said I.“Well; and a little bit of _him_. That sausage you toasted was his, andhe was in all respects a first-rater. Do try him, if it is only for oldacquaintance sake. Good-bye, Aged Parent!” in a cheery shout.“All right, John; all right, my boy!” piped the old man from within.I soon fell asleep before Wemmick’s fire, and the Aged and I enjoyedone another’s society by falling asleep before it more or less all day.We had loin of pork for dinner, and greens grown on the estate; and Inodded at the Aged with a good intention whenever I failed to do itdrowsily. When it was quite dark, I left the Aged preparing the firefor toast; and I inferred from the number of teacups, as well as fromhis glances at the two little doors in the wall, that Miss Skiffins was | 1Dickens |
“The glass still keeps very high,” he remarked as he sat down. “It isof importance that it should not rain before we are able to go over theground. On the other hand, a man should be at his very best and keenestfor such nice work as that, and I did not wish to do it when fagged bya long journey. I have seen young McCarthy.”“And what did you learn from him?”“Could he throw no light?”“None at all. I was inclined to think at one time that he knew who haddone it and was screening him or her, but I am convinced now that he isas puzzled as everyone else. He is not a very quick-witted youth,though comely to look at and, I should think, sound at heart.”“I cannot admire his taste,” I remarked, “if it is indeed a fact thathe was averse to a marriage with so charming a young lady as this Miss | 2Doyle |
motioning to Mr. Lorry to come forward.“What did you say?”“Do you mean to finish that pair of shoes to-day?”“I can’t say that I mean to. I suppose so. I don’t know.”But, the question reminded him of his work, and he bent over it again.Mr. Lorry came silently forward, leaving the daughter by the door. Whenhe had stood, for a minute or two, by the side of Defarge, the shoemakerlooked up. He showed no surprise at seeing another figure, but theunsteady fingers of one of his hands strayed to his lips as he looked atit (his lips and his nails were of the same pale lead-colour), and thenthe hand dropped to his work, and he once more bent over the shoe. Thelook and the action had occupied but an instant.“You have a visitor, you see,” said Monsieur Defarge.“What did you say?”“Here is a visitor.”The shoemaker looked up as before, but without removing a hand from his | 1Dickens |
understood nothing else to be referred to in the first standing toastof the society: which ran “Gentlemen, may the present promotion of goodfeeling ever reign predominant among the Finches of the Grove.”The Finches spent their money foolishly (the Hotel we dined at was inCovent Garden), and the first Finch I saw when I had the honour ofjoining the Grove was Bentley Drummle, at that time floundering abouttown in a cab of his own, and doing a great deal of damage to the postsat the street corners. Occasionally, he shot himself out of hisequipage headforemost over the apron; and I saw him on one occasiondeliver himself at the door of the Grove in this unintentional way—likecoals. But here I anticipate a little, for I was not a Finch, and couldnot be, according to the sacred laws of the society, until I came ofIn my confidence in my own resources, I would willingly have taken | 1Dickens |
"A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels ofthe earth," returned the Spirit. "But they know me. See!"A light shone from the window of a hut, and swiftly theyadvanced towards it. Passing through the wall of mud andstone, they found a cheerful company assembled round aglowing fire. An old, old man and woman, with theirchildren and their children's children, and another generationbeyond that, all decked out gaily in their holiday attire.The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howlingof the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them aChristmas song--it had been a very old song when he was aboy--and from time to time they all joined in the chorus.So surely as they raised their voices, the old man got quiteblithe and loud; and so surely as they stopped, his vigourThe Spirit did not tarry here, but bade Scrooge hold hisrobe, and passing on above the moor, sped--whither? Not | 1Dickens |
his voice “They’re at it again!”“Do you call _that_ a whisper?” cried the poor King, jumping up andshaking himself. “If you do such a thing again, I’ll have you buttered!It went through and through my head like an earthquake!”“It would have to be a very tiny earthquake!” thought Alice. “Who areat it again?” she ventured to ask.“Why the Lion and the Unicorn, of course,” said the King.“Fighting for the crown?”“Yes, to be sure,” said the King: “and the best of the joke is, thatit’s _my_ crown all the while! Let’s run and see them.” And theytrotted off, Alice repeating to herself, as she ran, the words of the“The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown:The Lion beat the Unicorn all round the town.Some gave them white bread, some gave them brown;Some gave them plum-cake and drummed them out of town.”“Does—the one—that wins—get the crown?” she asked, as well as she | 0Caroll |
that my boots were thick; that I had fallen into a despicable habit ofcalling knaves Jacks; that I was much more ignorant than I hadconsidered myself last night, and generally that I was in a low-livedWhen I reached home, my sister was very curious to know all about MissHavisham’s, and asked a number of questions. And I soon found myselfgetting heavily bumped from behind in the nape of the neck and thesmall of the back, and having my face ignominiously shoved against thekitchen wall, because I did not answer those questions at sufficientIf a dread of not being understood be hidden in the breasts of otheryoung people to anything like the extent to which it used to be hiddenin mine,—which I consider probable, as I have no particular reason tosuspect myself of having been a monstrosity,—it is the key to manyreservations. I felt convinced that if I described Miss Havisham’s as | 1Dickens |
whereat the jury’s countenances displayed a guilty consciousness thatthey knew nothing about the passages), was in a manner contagious; moreespecially the bright virtue known as patriotism, or love of country.That, the lofty example of this immaculate and unimpeachable witnessfor the Crown, to refer to whom however unworthily was an honour, hadcommunicated itself to the prisoner’s servant, and had engendered in hima holy determination to examine his master’s table-drawers and pockets,and secrete his papers. That, he (Mr. Attorney-General) was prepared tohear some disparagement attempted of this admirable servant; but that,in a general way, he preferred him to his (Mr. Attorney-General’s)brothers and sisters, and honoured him more than his (Mr.Attorney-General’s) father and mother. That, he called with confidenceon the jury to come and do likewise. That, the evidence of these twowitnesses, coupled with the documents of their discovering that would beproduced, would show the prisoner to have been furnished with lists of | 1Dickens |
of the plane-tree moved upon his face, as softly as her lips had movedin praying for him.The marriage-day was shining brightly, and they were ready outside theclosed door of the Doctor’s room, where he was speaking with CharlesDarnay. They were ready to go to church; the beautiful bride, Mr.Lorry, and Miss Pross--to whom the event, through a gradual process ofreconcilement to the inevitable, would have been one of absolute bliss,but for the yet lingering consideration that her brother Solomon shouldhave been the bridegroom.“And so,” said Mr. Lorry, who could not sufficiently admire the bride,and who had been moving round her to take in every point of her quiet,pretty dress; “and so it was for this, my sweet Lucie, that I broughtyou across the Channel, such a baby! Lord bless me! How little I thoughtwhat I was doing! How lightly I valued the obligation I was conferringon my friend Mr. Charles!” | 1Dickens |
your story, was the final one, “The thing is settled and done, or Mr.Jaggers would not be in it.” And now before I say anything more aboutmy father, or my father’s son, and repay confidence with confidence, Iwant to make myself seriously disagreeable to you for a“You won’t succeed,” said I.“O yes I shall!” said he. “One, two, three, and now I am in for it.Handel, my good fellow;”—though he spoke in this light tone, he wasvery much in earnest,—“I have been thinking since we have been talkingwith our feet on this fender, that Estella surely cannot be a conditionof your inheritance, if she was never referred to by your guardian. AmI right in so understanding what you have told me, as that he neverreferred to her, directly or indirectly, in any way? Never even hinted,for instance, that your patron might have views as to your marriage“Now, Handel, I am quite free from the flavour of sour grapes, upon my | 1Dickens |
herself. “I meant the other way.”“It’s too late to correct it,” said the Red Queen: “when you’ve oncesaid a thing, that fixes it, and you must take the consequences.”“Which reminds me—” the White Queen said, looking down and nervouslyclasping and unclasping her hands, “we had _such_ a thunderstorm lastTuesday—I mean one of the last set of Tuesdays, you know.”Alice was puzzled. “In _our_ country,” she remarked, “there’s only oneday at a time.”The Red Queen said, “That’s a poor thin way of doing things. Now_here_, we mostly have days and nights two or three at a time, andsometimes in the winter we take as many as five nights together—for“Are five nights warmer than one night, then?” Alice ventured to ask.“Five times as warm, of course.”“But they should be five times as _cold_, by the same rule—”“Just so!” cried the Red Queen. “Five times as warm, _and_ five timesas cold—just as I’m five times as rich as you are, _and_ five times as | 0Caroll |
And indeed she never did.The Footsteps Die Out For EverAlong the Paris streets, the death-carts rumble, hollow and harsh. Sixtumbrils carry the day’s wine to La Guillotine. All the devouring andinsatiate Monsters imagined since imagination could record itself,are fused in the one realisation, Guillotine. And yet there is not inFrance, with its rich variety of soil and climate, a blade, a leaf,a root, a sprig, a peppercorn, which will grow to maturity underconditions more certain than those that have produced this horror. Crushhumanity out of shape once more, under similar hammers, and it willtwist itself into the same tortured forms. Sow the same seed ofrapacious license and oppression over again, and it will surely yieldthe same fruit according to its kind.Six tumbrils roll along the streets. Change these back again to whatthey were, thou powerful enchanter, Time, and they shall be seen to bethe carriages of absolute monarchs, the equipages of feudal nobles, the | 1Dickens |
the kitten and the Queen to look at each other. “Now, Kitty!” shecried, clapping her hands triumphantly. “Confess that was what you(“But it wouldn’t look at it,” she said, when she was explaining thething afterwards to her sister: “it turned away its head, and pretendednot to see it: but it looked a _little_ ashamed of itself, so I thinkit _must_ have been the Red Queen.”)“Sit up a little more stiffly, dear!” Alice cried with a merry laugh.“And curtsey while you’re thinking what to—what to purr. It saves time,remember!” And she caught it up and gave it one little kiss, “just inhonour of having been a Red Queen.”“Snowdrop, my pet!” she went on, looking over her shoulder at the WhiteKitten, which was still patiently undergoing its toilet, “when _will_Dinah have finished with your White Majesty, I wonder? That must be thereason you were so untidy in my dream—Dinah! do you know that you’re | 0Caroll |
the meaner he, the nobler Joe.My heart was deeply and most deservedly humbled as I mused over thefire for an hour or more. The striking of the clock aroused me, but notfrom my dejection or remorse, and I got up and had my coat fastenedround my neck, and went out. I had previously sought in my pockets forthe letter, that I might refer to it again; but I could not find it,and was uneasy to think that it must have been dropped in the straw ofthe coach. I knew very well, however, that the appointed place was thelittle sluice-house by the limekiln on the marshes, and the hour nine.Towards the marshes I now went straight, having no time to spare.It was a dark night, though the full moon rose as I left the enclosedlands, and passed out upon the marshes. Beyond their dark line therewas a ribbon of clear sky, hardly broad enough to hold the red large | 1Dickens |
post. Miss Havisham’s family I took upon myself; intending tocommunicate with Mr. Matthew Pocket only, and leave him to do as heliked about informing the rest. This I did next day, through Herbert,as soon as I returned to town.There was a stage, that evening, when she spoke collectedly of what hadhappened, though with a certain terrible vivacity. Towards midnight shebegan to wander in her speech; and after that it gradually set in thatshe said innumerable times in a low solemn voice, “What have I done!”And then, “When she first came, I meant to save her from misery likemine.” And then, “Take the pencil and write under my name, ‘I forgiveher!’” She never changed the order of these three sentences, but shesometimes left out a word in one or other of them; never putting inanother word, but always leaving a blank and going on to the next word.As I could do no service there, and as I had, nearer home, that | 1Dickens |
License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work. • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a ProjectGutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms thanare set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writingfrom the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager ofthe Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as setforth in Section 3 below.1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable | 0Caroll |
“‘That white one with the barred tail, right in the middle of the“‘Oh, very well. Kill it and take it with you.’“Well, I did what she said, Mr. Holmes, and I carried the bird all theway to Kilburn. I told my pal what I had done, for he was a man that itwas easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed until he choked, andwe got a knife and opened the goose. My heart turned to water, forthere was no sign of the stone, and I knew that some terrible mistakehad occurred. I left the bird, rushed back to my sister’s, and hurriedinto the back yard. There was not a bird to be seen there.“‘Where are they all, Maggie?’ I cried.“‘Gone to the dealer’s, Jem.’“‘Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.’“‘But was there another with a barred tail?’ I asked, ‘the same as the“‘Yes, Jem; there were two barred-tailed ones, and I could never tell | 2Doyle |
| ---|--- | |---|---| | 1 | | | 1 | | Let "food" be Universe; m="sweet"; All x are m; &there4 All x are y'. All y are m'. All y are x'. i.e. Sugar is not salt. Salt is not sugar. | | 1 | 0 | | | | | 0 | | | 1 | | | ---|--- | |---|---| | | | | | | Let "Things" be Universe; m="eggs"; Some m are x; &there4 Some x are y. No m are y'. i.e. Some hard-boiled things can be cracked. | 0 | | | | 0 | 0 | | | | | | | | 0 | | | ---|--- | |---|---| | 0 | | | | |Let "persons" be Universe; m="Jews"; x="that are in the house"; y="that are in the garden". No m are x; &there4 No x are y. No m' are y. | 0Caroll |
never will do it again, whatever it is, and I beg you not to think itnecessary to mention more particularly what it is.”“No, miss,” returned Jerry, “it shall not be named to you. Second: thempoor things well out o’ this, and never no more will I interfere withMrs. Cruncher’s flopping, never no more!”“Whatever housekeeping arrangement that may be,” said Miss Pross,striving to dry her eyes and compose herself, “I have no doubt itis best that Mrs. Cruncher should have it entirely under her ownsuperintendence.--O my poor darlings!”“I go so far as to say, miss, moreover,” proceeded Mr. Cruncher, with amost alarming tendency to hold forth as from a pulpit--“and let my wordsbe took down and took to Mrs. Cruncher through yourself--that wot myopinions respectin’ flopping has undergone a change, and that wot I onlyhope with all my heart as Mrs. Cruncher may be a flopping at the present“There, there, there! I hope she is, my dear man,” cried the distracted | 1Dickens |
my resolution to tell Joe all, without delay. I would tell him beforebreakfast. I would dress at once and go to his room and surprise him;for, it was the first day I had been up early. I went to his room, andhe was not there. Not only was he not there, but his box was gone.I hurried then to the breakfast-table, and on it found a letter. Thesewere its brief contents:—“Not wishful to intrude I have departured fur you are well again dearPip and will do better without“P.S. Ever the best of friends.”Enclosed in the letter was a receipt for the debt and costs on which Ihad been arrested. Down to that moment, I had vainly supposed that mycreditor had withdrawn, or suspended proceedings until I should bequite recovered. I had never dreamed of Joe’s having paid the money;but Joe had paid it, and the receipt was in his name. | 1Dickens |
before me, dusting his hands.“O yes,” he returned, “these are all gifts of that kind. One bringsanother, you see; that’s the way of it. I always take ’em. They’recuriosities. And they’re property. They may not be worth much, but,after all, they’re property and portable. It don’t signify to you withyour brilliant lookout, but as to myself, my guiding-star always is,‘Get hold of portable property’.”When I had rendered homage to this light, he went on to say, in a“If at any odd time when you have nothing better to do, you wouldn’tmind coming over to see me at Walworth, I could offer you a bed, and Ishould consider it an honour. I have not much to show you; but such twoor three curiosities as I have got you might like to look over; and Iam fond of a bit of garden and a summer-house.”I said I should be delighted to accept his hospitality. | 1Dickens |
well as I do. I suppose there was a time once when my father had notgiven matters up; but if ever there was, the time is gone. May I askyou if you have ever had an opportunity of remarking, down in your partof the country, that the children of not exactly suitable marriages arealways most particularly anxious to be married?”This was such a singular question, that I asked him in return, “Is it“I don’t know,” said Herbert, “that’s what I want to know. Because itis decidedly the case with us. My poor sister Charlotte, who was nextme and died before she was fourteen, was a striking example. LittleJane is the same. In her desire to be matrimonially established, youmight suppose her to have passed her short existence in the perpetualcontemplation of domestic bliss. Little Alick in a frock has alreadymade arrangements for his union with a suitable young person at Kew. | 1Dickens |
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by allthe terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return ordestroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in yourpossession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to aProject Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be boundby the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the personor entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only beused on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people whoagree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a fewthings that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic workseven without complying with the full terms of this agreement. Seeparagraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project | 2Doyle |
paralyzed were we by the apparition that we allowed him to pass before we had recovered our nerve. Then Holmes and I both fired together, and the creature gave a hideous howl, which showed that one at least had hit him. He did not pause, however, but bounded onward. Far away on the path we saw Sir Henry looking back, his face white in the moonlight, his hands raised in horror, glaring helplessly at the frightful thing which was hunting him down. But that cry of pain from the hound had blown all our fears to the winds. If he was vulnerable he was mortal, and if we could wound him we could kill him. Never have I seen a man run as Holmes ran that night. I am reckoned fleet of foot, but he outpaced me as much as I outpaced the little professional. In front of us as we | 2Doyle |
be, will find its mortal life too short for its vastmeans of usefulness. Not to know that no space ofregret can make amends for one life's opportunitymisused! Yet such was I! Oh! such was I!""But you were always a good man of business,Jacob," faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this"Business!" cried the Ghost, wringing its handsagain. "Mankind was my business. The commonwelfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance,and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealingsof my trade were but a drop of water in thecomprehensive ocean of my business!"It held up its chain at arm's length, as if that werethe cause of all its unavailing grief, and flung itheavily upon the ground again."At this time of the rolling year," the spectre said,"I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds offellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and neverraise them to that blessed Star which led the WiseMen to a poor abode! Were there no poor homes to | 1Dickens |
there where a dike came, with a miniature windmill on it and a muddysluice-gate. When I looked round, I could see the other lights comingin after us. The torches we carried dropped great blotches of fire uponthe track, and I could see those, too, lying smoking and flaring. Icould see nothing else but black darkness. Our lights warmed the airabout us with their pitchy blaze, and the two prisoners seemed ratherto like that, as they limped along in the midst of the muskets. Wecould not go fast, because of their lameness; and they were so spent,that two or three times we had to halt while they rested.After an hour or so of this travelling, we came to a rough wooden hutand a landing-place. There was a guard in the hut, and they challenged,and the sergeant answered. Then, we went into the hut, where there wasa smell of tobacco and whitewash, and a bright fire, and a lamp, and a | 1Dickens |
He made all manner of gestures while he spoke, as if in incidentalimitation of some few of the great diversity of signals that he had“Clearly plots,” said Jacques Three. “Transparently!”“There is no doubt of the Jury?” inquired Madame Defarge, letting hereyes turn to him with a gloomy smile.“Rely upon the patriotic Jury, dear citizeness. I answer for my“Now, let me see,” said Madame Defarge, pondering again. “Yet once more!Can I spare this Doctor to my husband? I have no feeling either way. Can“He would count as one head,” observed Jacques Three, in a low voice.“We really have not heads enough; it would be a pity, I think.”“He was signalling with her when I saw her,” argued Madame Defarge; “Icannot speak of one without the other; and I must not be silent, andtrust the case wholly to him, this little citizen here. For, I am not aThe Vengeance and Jacques Three vied with each other in their fervent | 1Dickens |
the shop windows, and thinking what I would buy if I were a gentleman,who should come out of the bookshop but Mr. Wopsle. Mr. Wopsle had inhis hand the affecting tragedy of George Barnwell, in which he had thatmoment invested sixpence, with the view of heaping every word of it onthe head of Pumblechook, with whom he was going to drink tea. No soonerdid he see me, than he appeared to consider that a special Providencehad put a ’prentice in his way to be read at; and he laid hold of me,and insisted on my accompanying him to the Pumblechookian parlour. As Iknew it would be miserable at home, and as the nights were dark and theway was dreary, and almost any companionship on the road was betterthan none, I made no great resistance; consequently, we turned intoPumblechook’s just as the street and the shops were lighting up.As I never assisted at any other representation of George Barnwell, I | 1Dickens |
the Pumblechookian elbow in my eye, nor because I was not allowed tospeak (I didn’t want to speak), nor because I was regaled with thescaly tips of the drumsticks of the fowls, and with those obscurecorners of pork of which the pig, when living, had had the least reasonto be vain. No; I should not have minded that, if they would only haveleft me alone. But they wouldn’t leave me alone. They seemed to thinkthe opportunity lost, if they failed to point the conversation at me,every now and then, and stick the point into me. I might have been anunfortunate little bull in a Spanish arena, I got so smartingly touchedup by these moral goads.It began the moment we sat down to dinner. Mr. Wopsle said grace withtheatrical declamation,—as it now appears to me, something like areligious cross of the Ghost in Hamlet with Richard the Third,—andended with the very proper aspiration that we might be truly grateful. | 1Dickens |
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