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Article WITHIN THE SHADOW OF THE SHAFT. Page 1 of 6 →
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Within The Shadow Of The Shaft.
WITHIN THE SHADOW OF THE SHAFT .
With a Vignette Illustration by the Author . BY BRO . SAMUEL POYNTER , P . M . AND TREASURER , BURGOTNE , NO . 902 j P . M . ATHEN 2 EUM , NO . 1491 . A story I've heard in my youth , I can't tell whether serious or funny meant ;
I don't mean to vouch for its truth—Once a man ran aAvay with the Monnymect . Up Fish Street Hill swiftly he flew : A watchman who saAV it quick followed it , When what did this sharp fellow do ? Why , he made but one gulp and he sAvallowed it ! Ei-fol-lol-de-iddity , Bi-fol-lol-de-ido , & c—Old Song . " Where London ' s column , pointing at the skies , Like a tall bully , lifts the head and lies . "—Pope .
EVERY one of my esteemed „„ readers will probably find H A this magazine in his or her hands Wfy on the recurrence of the two p hundred and thirteenth anniver-\ , sary of the outbreak of that ter-\ rible devastationto be thereafter
, : j for ever numbered among the tre-: mendous catastrophes of history \\ and known as the Great Fire of 3 London . 1 Of this event , of its associations , aS surroundingssceneand of the
, , : society amidst which it occurred , ¦ | I propose to gossip , I hope plea' \ santly ancl not altogether unprofit-5 * ably , in the ensuing paper . % Of course you know Monument £ Yard . I grant that if , like the
£ swell in the song , you " never go east of Temple Bar , " your ac' - quaintance with that quadrangle ^_ == AA ill be limited to the informa--s ~ 7 ~ tion you derive from an occa-ESsS sional paragraph hiding in the
_~ :. - - „ remotest corner of your dail y •^ LS journal , as if ashamed of itself , ~ ' imparting the market rates of ^_^ - ~ " green fruit , " under which denomination I believe oranges , lemons , and pine-apples are comprised . I know a certain
little maiden very dear to me who delights in propounding the utterl y absurd and insoluble conundrum "Why is a raven like a writing-desk ?" Now , why should Monument Yard remind me of Sherwood Forest ? The flora of that rustic haunt has never , so far as I have been taught , included the aristocratic pine , the lemon that imparts acidulated piquancy to the middleclass grog , or even the humble orange that assuages the thirst of our Sarah
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Within The Shadow Of The Shaft.
WITHIN THE SHADOW OF THE SHAFT .
With a Vignette Illustration by the Author . BY BRO . SAMUEL POYNTER , P . M . AND TREASURER , BURGOTNE , NO . 902 j P . M . ATHEN 2 EUM , NO . 1491 . A story I've heard in my youth , I can't tell whether serious or funny meant ;
I don't mean to vouch for its truth—Once a man ran aAvay with the Monnymect . Up Fish Street Hill swiftly he flew : A watchman who saAV it quick followed it , When what did this sharp fellow do ? Why , he made but one gulp and he sAvallowed it ! Ei-fol-lol-de-iddity , Bi-fol-lol-de-ido , & c—Old Song . " Where London ' s column , pointing at the skies , Like a tall bully , lifts the head and lies . "—Pope .
EVERY one of my esteemed „„ readers will probably find H A this magazine in his or her hands Wfy on the recurrence of the two p hundred and thirteenth anniver-\ , sary of the outbreak of that ter-\ rible devastationto be thereafter
, : j for ever numbered among the tre-: mendous catastrophes of history \\ and known as the Great Fire of 3 London . 1 Of this event , of its associations , aS surroundingssceneand of the
, , : society amidst which it occurred , ¦ | I propose to gossip , I hope plea' \ santly ancl not altogether unprofit-5 * ably , in the ensuing paper . % Of course you know Monument £ Yard . I grant that if , like the
£ swell in the song , you " never go east of Temple Bar , " your ac' - quaintance with that quadrangle ^_ == AA ill be limited to the informa--s ~ 7 ~ tion you derive from an occa-ESsS sional paragraph hiding in the
_~ :. - - „ remotest corner of your dail y •^ LS journal , as if ashamed of itself , ~ ' imparting the market rates of ^_^ - ~ " green fruit , " under which denomination I believe oranges , lemons , and pine-apples are comprised . I know a certain
little maiden very dear to me who delights in propounding the utterl y absurd and insoluble conundrum "Why is a raven like a writing-desk ?" Now , why should Monument Yard remind me of Sherwood Forest ? The flora of that rustic haunt has never , so far as I have been taught , included the aristocratic pine , the lemon that imparts acidulated piquancy to the middleclass grog , or even the humble orange that assuages the thirst of our Sarah