Denis Duval, Lovel the widower, The Wolves and the lamb, The second funeral of Napoleon with illustrations by the author and by Frederick Walker (1911) (14761546064)

Identifier: denisduvallovelw00thac (find matches)
Title: Denis Duval, Lovel the widower, The Wolves and the lamb, The second funeral of Napoleon ... with illustrations by the author and by Frederick Walker
Year: 1911 (1910s)
Authors: Thackeray, William Makepeace, 1811-1863
Subjects:
Publisher: New York : Charles Scribner's Sons
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN



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h, thank you.How good it is! How it revives a poor old wretch!—and your cough, Bedford? How is your cough? I havebrought you some lozenges for it—some of Sir HenryHalfords own prescribing for my dear husband, and— Bedford (abruptly).—I must go—never mind thecough now, )Mrs. P. Mrs. Prior.—Whats here? almonds and raisins,macaroons, preserved apricots, biscuits for dessert—and—la bless the man! how you sta—artled me! Bedford. — Dont! Mrs. Prior: I beg and imploreof you, keep your ands out of the dessert. I cant standit. I must tell the governor if this game goes on. Mrs. P.—Ah! Mr. Bedford, it is for my poor—poorchild at home: the doctor recommended her apricots.Ay, indeed, dear Bedford; he did, for her poor chest! Bedford.—And Im blest if you havent been at thesherry-bottle again! Oh, Mrs. P., you drive me wild—you do. I cant see Lovel put upon in this way. Youknow its only last week I whopped the boy for stealingthe sherry, and twas you done it. ^^^lSl£^;i
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Where the Sugar Goes IN WHICH I PLAY THE SPY 265 Mrs. Prior (passionately).—For a sick child, Bed-ford. What wont a mother do for her sick child? Bedford.— Your childrens always sick. Youre al-ways taking things for em. I tell you, by the laws, Iwont and mustnt stand it, Mrs. P. 3Irs. Prior (with much spirit).—Go and tell yourmaster, Bedford! Go and tell tales of me, sir. Go andhave me dismissed out of this house. Go and have mydaughter dismissed out of this house, and her poor mo-ther brought to disgrace. Bedford.—Mrs. Prior—Mrs. Prior! you have beena-taking the sherry. A glass I dont mind: but youvebeen a-bringing that bottle again. 3Irs. P. (whimpering).—Its for Charlotte, Bed-ford ! my poor delicate angel of a Shatty! shes orderedit, indeed she is! Bedford.— Confound your Shatty! I cant stand it,I mustnt, and wont, Mrs. P.! Here a noise and clatter of other persons arriving in-terrupted the conversation between Lovels major-domoand the mother of the childrens governe