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Jack Sheppard A Romance

Creator: Ainsworth, William Harrison, 1805-1882
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"It was the knowledge of this feeling on your part, my love, that made me act without your express sanction. I did all for the best, I'm sure. Mrs. Sheppard is--" "I know what Mrs. Sheppard is, without your information, Sir. I haven't forgotten her previous history. You've your own reasons, no doubt, for bringing up her son--perhaps, I ought rather to say _your_ son, Mr. Wood." "Really, my love, these accusations are most groundless--this violence is most unnecessary." "I can't endure the odious baggage. I hope I may never come near her." "I hope you never may, my love," humbly acquiesced the carpenter. "Is my house to be made a receptacle for all your natural children, Sir? Answer me that." "Winny," said Thames, whose glowing cheek attested the effect produced upon him by the insinuation; "Winny," said he, addressing a pretty little damsel of some twelve years of age, who stood by his side holding the bottle of embrocation, "help me on with my coat, please. This is no place for me."
Ade\'s Fables

Ambition came, with Sterling Silver Breast-Plate and Flaming Sword, and sat beside a Tad aged 5. The wee Hopeful lived in a Frame House with Box Pillars in front and Hollyhocks leading down toward the Pike. "Whither shall I guide you?" asked Ambition. "Are you far enough from the Shell to have any definite Hankering?" "I have spent many Hours brooding over the possibilities of the Future," replied the Larva. "I want to grow up to be a Joey in a Circus. I fairly ache to sit in a Red Wagon just behind the Band and drive a Trick Mule with little pieces of Looking Glass in the Harness. I want to pull Mugs at all the scared Country Girls peeking out of the Wagon Beds. The Town Boys will leave the Elephant and trail behind my comical Chariot. In my Hour of Triumph the Air will be impregnated with Calliope Music and the Smell of Pop-Corn, modified by Wild Animals." Ambition went out to make the proper Bookings with Destiny. When he came back the Boy was ten years old. "We started wrong," whispered Ambition, curling up in the cool grass
"Sit down, my dear, sit down," interposed Mrs. Wood, softening her asperity. "What I said about natural children doesn't apply to _you_. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you." Mr. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs. Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,--"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. Kneebone, on his return from Manchester. I wouldn't have him see me in this state for the world. He'd never forgive you." "Poh, poh, my dear! Mr. Kneebone invariably takes part with me, when any trifling misunderstanding arises between us. I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite." "Jacobite!" echoed Mrs. Wood. "Marry, come up! Mightn't he just as reasonably complain of your being a Hanoverian and a Presbyterian? It's all matter of opinion. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object."