"And now, my lady," said he, when he explained to his wife the high state to whibsp;she had been called by his exertions and the Queen''s prerogative, "let''s have a bit of dinner, and a drop of som''at hot." Now the drop of som''at hot signified a do of alcohol suffit to nd three ordinary men very drunk to bed.
While quering the world Roger Scatcherd had not quered his old bad habits.
Indeed, he was the same man at all points that he had been when formerly en about the streets of Barchester with his stone-mason''s apron tucked up round his waist.
The apron he had abandoned, but not the heavy promi thoughtful brow, with the wildly flashing eye beh it. He was still the same good panion, and still also the same hard-w hero.
In this only had he ged, that now he would work, and some said equally well, whether he were drunk or sober.
Tho who were mostly ined to make a mirabsp;of him--and there was a school of worshippers ready to adore him as their idea of a divine, superhuman, miracle-moving, inspired prophet--declared that his wondrous work was best done, his calculations most quickly and most truly made, that he saw with most accurate eye into the far-distant balanbsp;of profit and loss, when he was under the influenbsp;of the rosy god. To the worshippers his breakings-out, as his periods of intemperanbsp;were called in his own t, were his moments of peculiar inspiration--his divine frenzies, in whibsp;he unicated most cloly with tho deities who preside over trade transas; his Eleusinian mysteries, to approach him in which ermitted only to a few of the most favoured.
"And now, my lady," said he, when he explained to his wife the high state to whibsp;she had been called by his exertions and the Queen''s prerogative, "let''s have a bit of dinner, and a drop of som''at hot." Now the drop of som''at hot signified a do of alcohol suffit to nd three ordinary men very drunk to bed.
While quering the world Roger Scatcherd had not quered his old bad habits.
Indeed, he was the same man at all points that he had been when formerly en about the streets of Barchester with his stone-mason''s apron tucked up round his waist.
The apron he had abandoned, but not the heavy promi thoughtful brow, with the wildly flashing eye beh it. He was still the same good panion, and still also the same hard-w hero.
In this only had he ged, that now he would work, and some said equally well, whether he were drunk or sober.
Tho who were mostly ined to make a mirabsp;of him--and there was a school of worshippers ready to adore him as their idea of a divine, superhuman, miracle-moving, inspired prophet--declared that his wondrous work was best done, his calculations most quickly and most truly made, that he saw with most accurate eye into the far-distant balanbsp;of profit and loss, when he was under the influenbsp;of the rosy god. To the worshippers his breakings-out, as his periods of intemperanbsp;were called in his own t, were his moments of peculiar inspiration--his divine frenzies, in whibsp;he unicated most cloly with tho deities who preside over trade transas; his Eleusinian mysteries, to approach him in which ermitted only to a few of the most favoured.