[…] the hellish Noise, the Roaring, Swearing, and Clamour, the Stench and Nastiness and all the dreadful Crowd of afflicting Things that I saw there, joined together to make the Place seem an Emblem of Hell itself, and a Kind of entrance into it.
[…] an older man, attired in gray, with hair to match, was busily engaged at one end of the room packing a quantity of small cases into a larger one, and continuing to hold converse with himself by means of the monosyllable “yes,” differently intonated, at intervals of half-a-minute, “y-e-s—y-e-s.”
PRR Unveils New Auto-Buffet Coach
paintwork
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