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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty"

Stay.--Look. Do you wise men see nothing there, now?'
He bent eagerly down on one knee, and gazed intently at the smoke, which
was rolling up the chimney in a thick black cloud. John Willet, who
appeared to consider himself particularly and chiefly referred to under
the term wise men, looked that way likewise, and with great solidity of
feature.
'Now, where do they go to, when they spring so fast up there,' asked
Barnaby; 'eh? Why do they tread so closely on each other's heels, and
why are they always in a hurry--which is what you blame me for, when I
only take pattern by these busy folk about me? More of 'em! catching to
each other's skirts; and as fast as they go, others come! What a merry
dance it is! I would that Grip and I could frisk like that!'
'What has he in that basket at his back?' asked the guest after a few
moments, during which Barnaby was still bending down to look higher up
the chimney, and earnestly watching the smoke.
'In this?' he answered, jumping up, before John Willet could
reply--shaking it as he spoke, and stooping his head to listen. 'In
this! What is there here? Tell him!'
'A devil, a devil, a devil!' cried a hoarse voice.
'Here's money!' said Barnaby, chinking it in his hand, 'money for a
treat, Grip!'
'Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!' replied the raven, 'keep up your spirits.


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