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…
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
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.
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