ILLUSTRATIVE OF EVERY-DAY LIFE AND EVERY-DAY PEOPLE.
THIRTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRED BARNARD
The Half-pay Captain completely effaced the old lady’s name from the brass door-plate in his attempts to polish it with aqua-fortis—Our Parish, chap. ii.
“Why the Devil ain’t you looking after that plate?”—Our Parish, chap. v.
When he first came to look at the lodgings, he inquired most particularly whether he was sure to be able to get a seat in the Parish Church—Our Parish, chap. vii.
“It is nearly eleven o’clock, and the cold thin rain, which has been drizzling so long, is beginning to pour down in good earnest”—Scenes, chap. ii.
The Gravesend boat.—Scenes, chap. x.
Different women of the House gossiping on the steps . . . the native Diallers—Scenes, chap. v.
It was a wedding party and sketched from one of the interior streets near Fitzroy Square—Scenes, chap. vii.
The Gentleman described looks extremely foolish, and squeezes her hand, and fees the Gipsy liberally—Scenes, chap. xii.
“I may as well get board, lodgin’, and washin’ till then, out of the country, as pay for it myself; consequently here goes”—Scenes, chap. xvii.
“His line is genteel comedy—his father’s coal and potato. He does Alfred Highflier in the last piece, and very well he’ll do it—at the price.”—Scenes, chap. xiv.
Tureens of soup are emptied with awful rapidity—Scenes, chap. x. 19
A gin-shop—Scenes, chap. xxii.
The Pawnbroker’s Shop—Scenes, chap. xxiii.
Children were playing on the grass; groups . . . chatting and laughing; but the man walked steadily up and down, unheeding and unheeded—Characters, chap. i.
“What do you mean by that, Scoundrel?” exclaimed Mr. Samuel Wilkins. . . . “What’s the matter with you, you little Humbug?” replied Whiskers—Characters, chap. iv.
The Prisoners’ van—Characters, chap. xii.
Hurrying along a by-street, keeping as close as he can to the area railings, a Man of about forty or fifty, clad in an old rusty suit of threadbare black cloth—Characters, chap. x.
“I received a note”—he said tremulously, in a voice like a Punch with a cold—”Yes,” returned the other, “You did,”—”Exactly,”—”Yes”—Tales, Chap. i.
“No what?” inquired Mrs. Bloss with a look of the most indescribable alarm “No stomach,” repeated Mrs. Tibbs with a shake of the head—Tales, chap. i.
The dear little fellow, having recovered his animal spirits, was standing upon her soft tender foot—Tales, chap. iii.
“So exactly the air of the Marquis,” said the Military Gentleman—Tales, chap. iv.
“How delightful, how refreshing it is, to retire from the cloudy storms, the vicissitudes, and the troubles of life, even if it be but for a few fleeting moments.”—Tales, chap. v.
“Who was he?” inquired the Surgeon. “My Son!” rejoined the Woman; and fell senseless at his feet—Tales, chap. vi.
The facetious Hardy, in fulfilment of his promise, had watched the Child to a remote part of the vessel, and, suddenly appearing before him with the most awful contortions of visage, had produced his paroxysms of terror—Tales, chap. vii.
One Gentleman was observed suddenly to rush from table without the slightest ostensible reason, and dart up the steps with incredible swiftness, thereby greatly damaging both himself and the Steward, who happened to be coming down at the same moment—Tales, chap. vii.
“Leave that ‘ere bell alone, you wretched loo-nattic!” said the Boots, suddenly forcing the unfortunate Trott back into his chair, and brandishing the stick aloft—Tales, chap. viii.
The Black Veil—Tales, chap. vi.
“Why,” replied Mr. Walkins Tottle evasively; for he trembled violently, and felt a sudden tingling throughout his whole frame; “Why—i should certainly—at least, i think i should like——”—Tales, chap. x. 1
Mr. Nicodemus Dumps . . . cross, cadaverous, odd and ill-natured—Tales, chap. xi.
“I’ve brought this here note,” replied the individual in the painted tops in a hoarse whisper; “I’ve brought this here note from a Gen’l’m’n as come to our house this mornin’.”—Tales, Chap. x. 2
He raised his manacled hands in a threatening attitude, fixed his eyes on his shrinking Parent and slowly left the room—Tales, chap. xii.
Looks that he had long forgotten were fixed upon him once more; voices long since hushed in death sounded in his ears like the music of village bells—Tales, chap. xii.
The body was washed ashore, some miles down the river, a swollen disfigured mass—Tales, chap. xii.
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