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The Cricket on the Hearth | Charles Dickens | |
I - Chirp the First |
Page 13 of 18 |
What he was in toys, he was (as most men are) in other things. You may easily suppose, therefore, that within the great green cape, which reached down to the calves of his legs, there was buttoned up to the chin an uncommonly pleasant fellow; and that he was about as choice a spirit, and as agreeable a companion, as ever stood in a pair of bull-headed-looking boots with mahogany-coloured tops. Still, Tackleton, the toy-merchant, was going to be married. In spite of all this, he was going to be married. And to a young wife too, a beautiful young wife. He didn't look much like a bridegroom, as he stood in the Carrier's kitchen, with a twist in his dry face, and a screw in his body, and his hat jerked over the bridge of his nose, and his hands tucked down into the bottoms of his pockets, and his whole sarcastic ill-conditioned self peering out of one little corner of one little eye, like the concentrated essence of any number of ravens. But, a Bridegroom he designed to be. 'In three days' time. Next Thursday. The last day of the first month in the year. That's my wedding-day,' said Tackleton. Did I mention that he had always one eye wide open, and one eye nearly shut; and that the one eye nearly shut, was always the expressive eye? I don't think I did. 'That's my wedding-day!' said Tackleton, rattling his money. 'Why, it's our wedding-day too,' exclaimed the Carrier. 'Ha ha!' laughed Tackleton. 'Odd! You're just such another couple. Just!' |
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The Cricket on the Hearth Charles Dickens |
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