Hood's Own, Or, Laughter from Year to Year: Being Former Runnings of His Comic Vein, with an Infusion of New Blood for General Circulation

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A.H. Bailey, Cornhill, 1855 - 568 strani
 

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Stran 119 - Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; I never loved a tree or flower, But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle. To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die ! Now too — the joy most like divine Of all I ever dreamt or knew.
Stran 213 - OUR village, that's to say not Miss Mitford's village, but our village of Bullock Smithy, Is come into by an avenue of trees, three oak pollards, two elders, and a withy ; And in the middle, there's a green of about not exceeding an acre and a half ; It's common to all, and fed off by nineteen cows, six ponies, three horses, five asses, two foals, seven pigs, and a calf! Besides a pond in the middle, as is held by a similar sort of common law lease, And contains twenty ducks, six drakes, three ganders,...
Stran 272 - OH ! NO ! we never mention her, Her name is never heard, My lips are now forbid to speak That once familiar word : From sport to sport they hurry me To banish my regret: And when they win a smile from me, They think that I forget.
Stran 64 - Her heart withstood the dint ; Though he had carried sixteen stone, He could not move a flint! Worn out, at last he made a vow, To break his being's link, For he was so reduced in size, At nothing he could shrink. Now, some will talk in water's praise, And waste a deal of breath; But John, though he drank nothing else, He drank himself to death.
Stran 552 - Devil), that lodged with him a week (he'll remember) last July, and he will show courtesy. He is by far the foremost of the Savans. His wife is the funniest thwarting little animal ! They are decidedly the Lions of green Hastings. Well, I have made an end of my say ; — my epistolary time is gone by when I could have scribbled as long (I will not say as agreeable) as thine was to both of us. I am dwindled to notes and letterets. But in good earnest I shall be most happy to hail thy return to the...
Stran 40 - To go and see the Drury-Lane Dane slain, — Or hear Othello's jealous doubt spout out, — Or Macbeth raving at that shade-made blade, Denying to his frantic clutch much touch; — Or else to see Ducrow with wide stride ride Four horses as no other man can span; Or in the small Olympic Pit, sit split Laughing at Liston, while you quiz his phiz.
Stran 562 - the Silken String running through the Pearl Chain of all Virtues.
Stran 561 - DEAR LAMB, — You are an impudent varlet, but I will keep your secret. We dine at Ayrton's on Thursday, and shall try to find Sarah and her two spare beds for that night only. Miss M. and her Tragedy may be dd, so may not you and your rib. Health attend you. Yours, Enfield. T. HOOD, ESQ. Miss Bridget Hood sends love.
Stran 525 - Those joyous hours are past away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on, While...
Stran 144 - In the Negro countenance you will often meet with strong traits of benignity. I have felt yearnings of tenderness towards some of these faces — or rather masks— that have looked out kindly upon one in casual encounters in the streets and highways. I love what Fuller beautifully calls — these

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