. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. ters stood in her eyes.» If you please. Maam, said she, rising up from her chair, anddropping her old curtsey, if you please, Maam, its John Hayloft isdead ; and then she began rocking again, as if grief was a baby thatwanted jogging to sleep. My Aunt was posed. She would fain have comforted the mourner,but her mode of grieving was so out of the common way, that she didnot know how to begin. To the violent she might have broughtsoothing ; to the desponding, texts of patience and resignation ; tothe hysterical, sal volatile ; she might have
Image details
Contributor:
The Reading Room / Alamy Stock PhotoImage ID:
2AFP5TYFile size:
7.1 MB (329.7 KB Compressed download)Releases:
Model - no | Property - noDo I need a release?Dimensions:
1716 x 1456 px | 29.1 x 24.7 cm | 11.4 x 9.7 inches | 150dpiMore information:
This image is a public domain image, which means either that copyright has expired in the image or the copyright holder has waived their copyright. Alamy charges you a fee for access to the high resolution copy of the image.
This image could have imperfections as it’s either historical or reportage.
. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. ters stood in her eyes.» If you please. Maam, said she, rising up from her chair, anddropping her old curtsey, if you please, Maam, its John Hayloft isdead ; and then she began rocking again, as if grief was a baby thatwanted jogging to sleep. My Aunt was posed. She would fain have comforted the mourner, but her mode of grieving was so out of the common way, that she didnot know how to begin. To the violent she might have broughtsoothing ; to the desponding, texts of patience and resignation ; tothe hysterical, sal volatile ; she might have asked the sentimental forthe story of her woes. A good scolding is useful with some sluggishgriefs :—in some cases a cordial. In others—a job. If Sally had only screamed, or bellowed, or fainted, or gone stupified, or raved, or said a collect, or moped about, it would have beeneasy to deal with her. But with a woman that only rocked on herchair What the devil could my Aunt do ? Why, nothing :—and she did it as well as she could. *g;rai-.-AtQr?. Pony-AtowskL A TRUE SIVRY. Of all our pains, since man was curst—I mean of bi-dy, not the mental—To name the worst among the worst, The dental sure is transcendental ;Some bit of mnsticating bone, That ought to help to clear a shelf, But lets its proper work alone, And only seems to gnaw itself;In fact, of any grave attackOn victual there is little dan^jer, Tis so like coming to the rack, As well as going to the manger. Old Hunks—it seemd a fit retort Of justii e on his grinding ways— Possessd a grinder of the sort, That troubled all his latter days. The best of friends fall out, and so His teeth had done sonic years ago, Save some old stumps with ragged root. And they took turn about to shoot ; If he drank any chillv liquor, They made it quite a point to ihrob ; But if he warmd it on the holj. Why then they only twitclid the quicker. ai9 A TRUE STORY. One tooth—I wonder such a tooth Had never killd him in his youth— One too