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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

'Go on improving of us, Johnny.'
'Consequently, then,' said Mr Willet, 'that chap, whose mother was
hung when he was a little boy, along with six others, for passing bad
notes--and it's a blessed thing to think how many people are hung in
batches every six weeks for that, and such like offences, as showing how
wide awake our government is--that chap that was then turned loose, and
had to mind cows, and frighten birds away, and what not, for a few pence
to live on, and so got on by degrees to mind horses, and to sleep in
course of time in lofts and litter, instead of under haystacks and
hedges, till at last he come to be hostler at the Maypole for his board
and lodging and a annual trifle--that chap that can't read nor write,
and has never had much to do with anything but animals, and has never
lived in any way but like the animals he has lived among, IS a animal.
And,' said Mr Willet, arriving at his logical conclusion, 'is to be
treated accordingly.'
'Willet,' said Solomon Daisy, who had exhibited some impatience at the
intrusion of so unworthy a subject on their more interesting theme,
'when Mr Chester come this morning, did he order the large room?'
'He signified, sir,' said John, 'that he wanted a large apartment.


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