I have no other moral than this to tag to the present story of “Vanity Fair.”
It can’t be done now, when we’re expecting every day to go on foreign service.
that he would give her a cheque for five thousand pounds on the day his son was married to her ward
“George is in town, Papa; and has gone to the Horse Guards, and will be back to dinner.”
The world is a looking-glass, and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face. Frown at it, and it will in turn look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, and it is a jolly kind companion
“Well, well; yours is quite yellow enough for us. Isn’t it, Emmy?”
You foolish creature! Who would take you, I should like to know, with your yellow face?”
“How dare you, sir, break it?” says Cuff; “you blundering little thief. You drank the shrub, and now yo
“O heavenly, heavenly flowers!
