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Jack Sheppard A Romance

Creator: Ainsworth, William Harrison, 1805-1882
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Mr. Wood rushed instantly to meet them. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. "Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood. "The traps!" responded a bystander. "The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. "The ban-dogs!" thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of "The long drover of the Borough market." "Where are they?" "Ay, where are they?" chorussed the mob, flourishing their various weapons, and flashing their torches in the air; "we'll starve 'em out."
The Manual of Heraldry; Fifth Edition Being a Concise Description of the Several Terms Used, and Containing a Dictionary of Every Designation in the Science

THE MANUAL OF HERALDRY: Being a Concise Description of the Several Terms Used, and Containing a Dictionary of Every Designation in the Science Illustrated by Four Hundred Engravings on Wood Fifth Edition London: Arthur Hall, Virtue & Co. 25, Paternoster Row. London: R. Clay, Printer, Bread Street Hill.
Mr. Wood trembled. He felt he had raised a storm which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to allay. He knew not what to say, or what to do; and his confusion was increased by the threatening gestures and furious looks of the ruffians in his immediate vicinity. "I don't understand you, gentlemen," stammered he, at length. "What does he say?" roared the long drover. "He says he don't understand flash," replied the lady in gentleman's attire. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. "You frighten the cull out of his senses. It's plain he don't understand our lingo; as, how should he? Take pattern by me;" and as he said this he strode up to the carpenter, and, slapping him on the shoulder, propounded the following questions, accompanying each interrogation with a formidable contortion of countenance. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. "Let me have a word with the cull!" "Ay! ay!" cried several of the bystanders, "let Jonathan kimbaw the