The above
description of
—the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains
Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains—
may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by
his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his
countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may,
possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would
have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the
skilful artist. Mr. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening,
her jaw dropping open. When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and
Thomas begged her to play encores. More than ever Sir John was
glad that he had sat down. I trust that no unpleasant rumours will be circulated
before the election, at any rate. He had a blue
overstuffed couch, his own television, even a computer
with its own desk.
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This video was uploaded to kooplokaalmontferland.info on 17-07-2024 15:12:31