Tarbolt.' What part is the humbug sustaining, that so depends on the weather ?" "He takes Bishop Henry of Blois in the Fourth Episode.

He wears a suit of complete armour, and you cannot conceive how much it--it--improves him.

I helped him to try it on the other day," Mr.Simeon explained with a smile.
"Maybe," suggested Brother Copas, "he fears the effect of rain upon his 'h's.'" But the glass held steady, and the great day dawned without a cloud.
Good citizens of Merchester, arising early to scan the sky, were surprised to find their next-door neighbours already abroad, and in consultation with neighbours opposite over strings of flags to be suspended across the roadway.

Mr.Simeon, for example, peeping out, with an old dressing-gown cast over his night-shirt, was astounded to find Mr.Magor, the contiguous pork-seller, thus engaged with Mr.
Sillifant, the cheap fruiterer across the way.

He had accustomed himself to think of them as careless citizens and uncultured, and their unexpected patriotism gave him perhaps less of a shock than the discovery that they must have been moving faster than he with the times, for they both wore pyjamas.
They were kind to him, however: and, lifting no eyebrow over his antiquated night-attire, consulted him cheerfully over a string of flags which (as it turned out) Mr.Magor had paid yesterday a visit to Southampton expressly to borrow.
I mention this because it was a foretaste, and significant, of the general enthusiasm.
At ten in the morning Fritz, head waiter of that fine old English coaching-house, "The Mitre," looked out from the portico where he stood surrounded by sporting prints, and announced to the young lady in the bar that the excursion trains must be "bringing them in hundreds." By eleven o'clock the High Street was packed with crowds that whiled away their time with staring at the flags and decorations.