Charles Stanley Reinhart (May 16, 1844 – August 30, 1896), usually cited as C. S. Reinhart, was an American painter and illustrator.
Frontispiece
Floundering into the room with greater precipitation than he had quite calculated upon
"Well, Smike," said Nicholas, as cheerfully as he could speak, "let me hear what new acquaintances you have made this morning, or what new wonder you have found out, in the compass of this street and the next one."
"No," said Smike, shaking his head mournfully; "I must talk of something else today."
"Of what you like," replied Nicholas, good-humouredly.
The Committee Stood up and Clapped Their Hands
With this exordium, Mr. Ralph Nickleby took a newspaper from his pocket, and after unfolding it, and looking for a short time among the advertisements, read as follows:
"Education. — At Mr. Wackford Squeers’s Academy, Dotheboys Hall, at the delightful village of Dotheboys, near Greta Bridge in Yorkshire, Youth are boarded, clothed, booked, furnished with pocket-money, provided with all necessaries, instructed in all languages living and dead, mathematics, orthography, geometry, astronomy, trigonometry, the use of the globes, algebra, single stick (if required), writing, arithmetic, fortification, and every other branch of classical literature. Terms, twenty guineas per annum. No extras, no vacations, and diet unparalleled. Mr. Squeers is in town, and attends daily, from one till four, at the Saracen’s Head, Snow Hill. N.B. An able assistant wanted. Annual salary 5 pounds. A Master of Arts would be preferred."
Without another word he led Nicholas into the passage, and thence into the official pantry at the end of it, where he thrust him into a chair, and mounting upon his high stool, sat, with his arms hanging, straight down by his sides, gazing fixedly upon him, as from a tower of observation.
Sit down, Mr. Nickleby," said Squeers. "Here we are, a breakfasting you see!"
did not see that anybody was breakfasting, except Mr. Squeers; but he bowed with all becoming reverence, and looked as cheerful as he could. "Oh! that’s the milk and water, is it, William?" said Squeers. "Very good; don’t forget the bread and butter presently."
"The Five Sisters of York": An Interpolated Tale
It was a bright and sunny morning in the pleasant time of summer, when one of those black monks emerged from the abbey portal, and bent his steps towards the house of the fair sisters.
"The Baron of Grogzwig": An Interpolated Tale
"No, he was not; for, on the opposite side of the fire, there sat with folded arms a wrinkled hideous figure, with deeply sunk and bloodshot eyes, and an immensely long cadaverous face, shadowed by jagged and matted locks of coarse black hair. He wore a kind of tunic of a dull bluish colour, which, the baron observed, on regarding it attentively, was clasped or ornamented down the front with coffin handles. His legs, too, were encased in coffin plates as though in armour; and over his left shoulder he wore a short dusky cloak, which seemed made of a remnant of some pall. He took no notice of the baron, but was intently eyeing the fire.
"This is the first class in English Spelling and Philosophy, Nickleby."
"Weel, then!" said the Yorkshireman, striking the table heavily with his fist, "what I say’s this — Dang my boans and boddy, if I stan’ this ony longer. Do ye gang whoam wi’ me, and do yon loight an’ toight young whipster look sharp out for a brokken head, next time he cums under my hond."
Newman Noggs Opened the Door of the Deserted Mansion
"Dear me," said Nicholas, as the brown bonnet went down on his shoulder again, "this is more serious than I supposed. Allow me! Will you have the goodness to hear me speak?"
"Who cried stop?" said Squeers, turning savagely round. "I," said Nicholas, stepping forward. "This must not go on."" "Must not go on!" cried Squeers, almost in a shriek." "No!" thundered Nicholas. "Aghast and stupefied by the boldness of the interference, Squeers released his hold of Smike, and, falling back a pace or two, gazed upon Nicholas with looks that were positively frightful. "I say must not," repeated Nicholas, nothing daunted; "shall not. I will prevent it." Squeers continued to gaze upon him, with his eyes starting out of his head; but astonishment had actually, for the moment, bereft him of speech.
The travellers partook of their frugal fare
"Mr. Kenwigs, see what it is; make haste!" cried the sister, laying violent hands upon Mrs. Kenwigs, and holding her back by force. "Oh don’t twist about so, dear, or I can never hold you."
"This is all very well, Mr. Nickleby, and very proper, so far as it goes"
"Oh, Miss Knag," said Madame Mantalini, "this is the young person I spoke to you about."
"A most elegant appearance," said Madame Mantalini.
"I never saw anything so exquisite in all my life," said Miss Knag.
Now, the old lord, who was a very old lord, said nothing, but mumbled and chuckled in a state of great delight, no less with the nuptial bonnets and their wearers, than with his own address in getting such a fine woman for his wife; and the young lady, who was a very lively young lady, seeing the old lord in this rapturous condition, chased the old lord behind a cheval-glass, and then and there kissed him, while Madame Mantalini and the other young lady looked, discreetly, another way.
"Unhand me, sir, this instant," cried Kate. "I need not entreat your sympathy," he said, wringing her hand. "Ah!" cried Mr. Mantalini, "interrupted!" and whisk went the breakfast knife into Mr. Mantalini’s dressing-gown pocket, while Mr. Mantalini’s eyes rolled wildly, and his hair floating in wild disorder, mingled with his whiskers. And many times turning back to wave his hat to the two wayfarers "Plump!" explained the manager, quite horrified; "you'll spoil it forever."
And finally the Savage dropped down on one knee, and the maiden stood on one leg on his other knee
"What do you mean to do for me, old fellow?" asked Mr. Lenville, poking the struggling fire Miss Petowker grasped the collector’s hand, but emotion choked her utterance.
"Is the sight of me so dreadful, Henrietta Petowker?" said the collector.
"Oh no, no, no," rejoined the bride; "but all the friends — the darling friends — of my youthful days — to leave them all — it is such a shock!"
"Suppose we go back to the subject of little Nickleby, eh?"
Affectionate Behavior of Messrs. Pyke and Pluck
"Run for Sir Tumley," cried Mr. Wititterley, menacing the page with both fists
"For my sake — for mine, Lenville — forego all idle forms, unless you would like to see me a blighted corse at your feet."
"I should have spoiled his features yesterday afternoon if I could have afforded it,' said Newman."
Put on his hat, adjusted it by the glass, drew on his gloves, and at last walked slowly out
"Look at them tears, sir," said Squeers with a triumphant air, as Master Wackford whiped his eyes with the cuff of his jacket; "there's oiliness!"
His conductor advanced, and exchanged a warm greeting with another old gentleman, the very type and model of himself
"I should say," said Mr. Kenwigs, abruptly, and raising his voice as he spoke, "that my children might come into a matter of a hundred pounds apiece, perhaps."
But Tim Linkinwater, without looking around, impatiently waved his hand as a caution that profund silence must be observed
John was sitting on the bed, with the reddest face ever seen
"I must speak to her — I will! I will not leave this house without."
Falling about in all directions, now to the right, now to the left
"Madeline, who is this — what does any body want here?"
"And how have you been?' said Gride.
Lay the dead man, with his stark and rigid face turned upward to the sky
Mrs. Kenwigs threw herself upon the old gentleman's neck.
And then, taking the beautiful burden in his arms, rushed out.
"I am robbed! I am ruined!"
"Fill it again, and hand it over to you."
"Now," he murmured, "I am happy."
And clasping the iron railings with his hands, looked eagerly in.
"Come," said Tim, "let’s be a comfortable couple."
The "Breaking-up" of Dotheboys Hall
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