1851; Or, The adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys and family, who came up to London to enjoy themselves, and to see the Great Exhibition.Mayhew, Henry
General
1851; Or, The adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys and family, who came up to London to enjoy themselves, and to see the Great Exhibition.
Mayhew, Henry
Great Exhibition (1851 : London, England) -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
Then followed the explanation, with all its disheartening results. Of
course it would be impossible for the Major to accompany them to the
Exhibition shorn of half his leg, while to get it mended in sufficient
time was an equal impossibility. Though Jobby hinted that the glue-pot
was on the fire below, the Major felt in no way inclined to trust the
maintenance of his perpendicular to so weak a foundation; nor did the
several parts admit of being spliced, seeing that the limb would be
reduced several inches by the operation; and as there was no such thing
as borrowing a wooden leg at a moment’s notice in a neighbourhood that
was some miles distant from either Chelsea or Greenwich Hospital, why it
was evident that the Major must remain at home until such time as he
could get his injuries repaired; for to proceed without him was more
than Mr. Sandboys would consent to do.
Accordingly, amid much disappointment and sorrow, the family of the
Sandboys _once_ more made up their minds to abandon all hope of seeing
the interior of the Crystal Palace, and to return to their native
mountains at the earliest possible opportunity.
It was quite evident, Mr.Sandboys again repeated, that Fate had set her
face against their ever enjoying the treat, and, for his part, he was
not going to thrust his head any longer against the wall that Destiny
had run up between them and the building.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER XXIV.
“Waes me! what’s this that lugs sae at my heart,
And fills my breast with seck a dispert smart?
Can’t be that thing cawt luive? Good folks now tell,
And I’se set down just how I find mysel.
“I used to sing my sang, and crack my joke,
And shake my sides at murth like other folk,
But I’se sare chang’d frae what I used to be;
Luik i’ my feace, and you may fairly see.”
_The Costard’s Complaint, by Ewan Clark._
IT was a profound remark of Mrs. Coddle—and women, however humble, read
characters very quickly, especially when their own interests are
concerned—that there was no telling what ever had come to her Major
since them Sandboys had got back to the place. She only knew he hadn’t
been “all there” for the last ten days.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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