Mr. And Mrs. Boffin Sat Staring At

The Rich, Sweet Smell Of The Hayricks Rose To His Chamber Window; The Hundred Perfumes Of The Little Flower-garden Beneath Scented The Air Around; The Deep-green Meadows Shone In The Morning Dew That Glistened On Every Leaf As It Trembled In The Gentle Air: And The Birds Sang As If Every Sparkling Drop Were A Fountain Of Inspiration To Them.

She Writhes Under Her Life. A Woman More Angry, Passionate, Reckless, And Revengeful Never Lived.

Equity Sends Questions To Law. Law Sends Questions Back To Equity; Law Finds It Can't Do This, Equity Finds It Can't Do That; Neither Can Do Anything, Without This Solicitor Instructing And This Counsel Appearing For A, And That Solicitor Instructing & That Counsel Appearing For B.

A Modest Ring At The Bell At Length Allayed Her Fears, And Miss Benton, Hurrying Into Her Own Room And Shutting Herself Up, In Order That She Might Preserve That Appearance Of Being Taken By Surprise Which Is So Essential To The Polite Reception Of Visitors, Awaited Their Coming With A Smiling Countenance.

To Close The Eyes, And Give A Seemly Comfort To The Apparel Of The Dead, Is Poverty's Holiest Touch Of Nature.