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And I, the last, go forth companionless,
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
I have lived my life, and that which I have done
Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
So said he, and the barge with oar and sail
Looked one black dot against the verge of dawn,
7. แ Many a wassail-bout1 Wore the long Winter out; Often our midnight shout
Set the cocks crowing, As we the Berserk's tale Measured in cups of ale, Draining the oaken pail, Filled to ō'erflowing. 8.
"Once as I told in glee
"I wooed the blue-eyed maid, Yielding, yet half afraid, And in the forest's shade
Our vows were plighted. Under its loosened vest Fluttered her little breast, Like birds within their nest By the hawk frighted. 10. "Bright in her father's hall Shields gleamed upon the wall, Loud sang the minstrels all, Chaunting his glory; When of old Hildebrand I asked his daughter's hand, Mute did the minstrels stand To hear my stōry. 11.
"While the brown ale he quaffed, Loud then the champion laughed, And as the wind-gusts waft
The sea-foam brightly,
So the loud laugh of scorn, Out of those lips unshōrn, From the deep drinking-horn Blew the foam lightly.
"She was a Prince's child,
Should not the dove so white
"Scarce had I put to sea, Bearing the maid with me,Fairest of all was she
Among the Norsemen !-
With twenty horsemen. 14. "Then launched they to the blast, Bent like a reed each mast, Yet we were gaining fast,
When the wind failed us;
Laugh as he hailed us.
"And as to catch the gale
1 Wassail-bout, (wos' sil-bout), a drinking-bout; a contest or set-to at wassail, a kind of liquor used on festive occasions.
140. SCENES FROM PICKWICK.
R. Pickwick's apartments in Goswell street, although on a limited scale, were not only of a very neat and comfortable description, but peculiarly adapted for the residence of a man of his genius and observation. His sitting-room was the first floor front, his bed-room was the second floor front; and thus, whether he was sitting at his desk in the parlor, or standing before the dressing-glass in his dormitory, he had an equal
1 Skōal, in Scandanavia this is the the word is slightly changed, in customary salutation when drink order to preserve the correct proing a health. The orthography of nunciation.
opportunity of contemplating human nature in all the numerous phases it exhibits, in that not more populous than popular thoroughfare.
2. His landlady, Mrs. Bardell-the relict and sole executrix of a deceased custom-house officer-was a comely (kum'ly) woman of bustling manners and agreeable appearance, with a natural genius for cooking, improved by study and long practice into an ex'quisite talent. There were no children, no servants, no fowls. The only other inmates of the house were a large man and a small boy; the first a lodger, the second a production of Mrs. Bardell's. The large man was always at home precisely at ten o'clock at night, at which hour he regularly condensed himself into the limits of a dwarfish French bedstead in the back parlor; and the infantine sports and gymnastic exercises of Master Bardell were exclusively confined to the neighboring pavements and gutters. Cleanliness and quiet reigned throughout the house; and in it Mr. Pickwick's will was law.
3. To any one acquainted with these points of the domestic economy of the establishment, and con'versant with the admirable regulation of Mr. Pickwick's mind, his appearance and behavior, on the morning previous to that which had been fixed upon for the journey to Eatansvill, would have been most mysterious and unaccountable. He paced the room to and fro with hurried steps, popped his head out of the window at intervals of about three minutes each, constantly referred to his watch, and exhibited many other manifestations of impatience, věry unusual with him. It was evident that something of great importance was in contemplation; but what that something was, not even Mrs. Bardell herself had been enabled to discover.
4. "Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at last, as that amiable female approached the termination of a prolonged dusting of the apartment. "Sir," said Mrs. Bardell. "Your little boy is a very long time gone." "Why, it's a good long way to the Borough, sir," remonstrated Mrs. Bardell. "Ah," said Mr. Pickwick, "věry true; so it is." Mr. Pickwick relapsed into silence, and Mrs. Bardell resumed her dusting.
5. Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at the expiration of a few minutes. "Sir," said Mrs. Bardell again. "Do you think it's a much greater expense to keep two people, than to keep