The small clouds which chequered the sky, as they passed along, spread their flitting shadows on the distant mountains, and seemed to marble them; a beauty which I do not recollect has struck any painter.
Few of those who were summoned left their homes, and those few generally found it more agreeable to tipple in alehouses than to pace the streets.
Well, thought her parents and the neighbors, the old coger is going to do the handsome thing for little Sally, perhaps when she gets married, in the shape of a nice fit-out; he may give her a snug little cottage, who knows […]
He was born out back of a twopenny flophouse in what the wags called “The Holy Land” […].
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