The steady
sound of the captain's voice was still too potent a soporific for the
poor general; he kept gleaming up and sinking in the socket, until the
cessation of the tale again roused him, when he started awake, put his
foot down upon Lady Lillycraft's cur, the sleeping Beauty, which
yelped and seized him by the leg, and, in a moment, the whole library
resounded with yelpings and exclamations. Never did man more
completely mar his fortunes while he was asleep. Silence being at
length restored, the company expressed their thanks to the captain,
and gave various opinions of the story. The parson's mind, I found,
had been continually running upon the leaden manuscripts, mentioned in
the beginning, as dug up at Granada, and he put several eager
questions to the captain on the subject. The general could not well
make out the drift of the story, but thought it a little confused. "I
am glad, however," said he, "that they burnt the old chap of the
tower; I have no doubt he was a notorious impostor."
(END OF VOL. ONE)
BRACEBRIDGE HALL;
OR,
THE HUMOURISTS.
A MEDLEY.
BY GEOFFREY CRAYON, Gent.
VOLUME SECOND.
Under this cloud I walk, Gentlemen; pardon my rude
assault. I am a traveller, who, having surveyed most of
the terrestrial angles of this globe, am hither arrived,
to peruse this little spot.
Pages:
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300