An Essay on the Genius of George Cruikshank

H. Hooper, 1840 - 59 páginas
Tells about the works of George Cruikshank.

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Página 31 - Stop thief, stop thief — a highwayman ! Not one of them was mute, And all and each that passed that way Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space, The toll-men thinking as before That Gilpin rode a race.
Página 16 - I've ta'en the gold, &c. Despise that shrimp, that wither'd imp, Wi' a' his noise and caprin, And tak a share wi' those that bear The budget and the apron ; And by that stowp, my faith and houp, And by that dear Kilbagie,* If e'er ye want, or meet wi' scant, May I ne'er weet my craigie.
Página 2 - Sunday in London. Illustrated in Fourteen Cuts by George Cruikshank, and a few words by a friend of his, with a Copy of Sir Andrew Agnew's Bill.
Página 2 - Greenwich Hospital. A Series of Naval Sketches descriptive of the Life of a Man of War's Man. By an Old Sailor.
Página 30 - At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. Stop, stop, John Gilpin! — Here's the house, They all at once did cry ; The dinner waits, and we are tired...
Página 22 - The rich man is invisible In the crowd of his gay society; But the poor man's delight Is a sore in the sight, And a stench in the nose of piety.
Página 15 - My bonnie lass, I work in brass, A tinkler is my station ; I've travell'd round all Christian ground In this my occupation. I've ta'en the gold, I've been enroll'd In many a noble squadron ; But vain they search'd, when off I march'd To go an
Página 7 - But our clown lies in his grave; and our harlequin, Ellar, prince of how many enchanted islands, was he not at Bow Street the other day, - in his dirty, tattered, faded motley - seized as a lawbreaker, for acting at a penny theatre, after having wellnigh starved in the streets, where nobody would listen to his old guitar? No one gave a shilling to bless him: not one of us who owe him so much.
Página 7 - ... round the window in those days of grinning, good-natured mechanics, who spelt the songs, and spoke them out for the benefit of the company, and who received the points of humour with a general sympathizing roar.
Página 30 - But yet his horse was not a whit Inclin'd to tarry there ; For why ? — his owner had a house Full ten miles off, at Ware. So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong; So did he fly — which brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin...

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