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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

He retreated into a doorway to see who these talkers
were, and to listen to them.
The light came to the level of the pavement as he did this, and a man
ascended, bearing in his hand a torch. This figure unlocked and held
open the grating as for the passage of another, who presently
appeared, in the form of a young man of small stature and uncommon
self-importance, dressed in an obsolete and very gaudy fashion.
'Good night, noble captain,' said he with the torch. 'Farewell,
commander. Good luck, illustrious general!'
In return to these compliments the other bade him hold his tongue, and
keep his noise to himself, and laid upon him many similar injunctions,
with great fluency of speech and sternness of manner.
'Commend me, captain, to the stricken Miggs,' returned the torch-bearer
in a lower voice. 'My captain flies at higher game than Miggses. Ha, ha,
ha! My captain is an eagle, both as respects his eye and soaring wings.
My captain breaketh hearts as other bachelors break eggs at breakfast.'
'What a fool you are, Stagg!' said Mr Tappertit, stepping on the
pavement of the court, and brushing from his legs the dust he had
contracted in his passage upward.


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