Harriet, by the way, is a very sprightly name. It is the female of Harry, and is identified in my imagination with I know not what of the power of being lively and saucy, without committing the sweetness of womanhood.
It had been his intention to go to Wimbledon, but as he himself said: “Why be blooming well frizzled when you can hear all the results over the wireless. And results are all that concern me. […]”
[Obadiah B.] Brown gave his machine—which combined the principles of the phénakistocope (derived from Greek words meaning, roughly, “to show movement of a target or object”) and the magic lantern—the equally improbable name of phasmatrope (a “turning apparition”).
I have just left the right worshipful, and his myrmidons, about a sneaker or five gallons; the whole magistracy was pretty well disguised before I gave them the slip.
