Tis not her coldness, father, That chills my labouring breast; It's that confounded cucumber I've ate and can't digest.
I was between A man and a boy, A hobble-de-hoy, A fat, little, punchy concern of sixteen. - Richard Harris Barham
I was between A man and a boy, A hobble-de-hoy, A fat, little, punchy concern of sixteen.
- Richard Harris Barham
Ghosts, like ladies, never speak till spoke to. - Richard Harris Barham
Ghosts, like ladies, never speak till spoke to.
The Jackdaw sat in the Cardinal's chair! Bishop and Abbot and Prior were there, Many a monk and many a friar, Many a knight and many a squire, With a… - Richard Harris Barham
The Jackdaw sat in the Cardinal's chair! Bishop and Abbot and Prior were there, Many a monk and many a friar, Many a knight and many a squire, With a…
Thrice happy's the wooing that's not long adoing. So much time is saved in the billing and cooing. - Richard Harris Barham
Thrice happy's the wooing that's not long adoing. So much time is saved in the billing and cooing.
Tis not her coldness, father, That chills my labouring breast; It's that confounded cucumber I've ate and can't digest. - Richard Harris Barham
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