The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. There was little more here than a sideboard, a chest for the vestments, and a simple wooden chair. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. The unequal battle went on. “I wonder what you could do?” he said. But he might have crept along the left side of the pier, and beneath the further arch; whereas, Wood, as we have seen, took his course upon the right. "I sha'n't offer any of these to you two," he said; "but I know you won't mind me having an imitation king's peg. ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-09-2024 01:17:41
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