The Old Curiosity Shop
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The Old Curiosity Shop is a novel published by Charles Dickens from 1840-1841 in his weekly paper. The book tells the story of a young orphaned girl who spends much of her life at her grandfather’s shop.
‘Because I was in the humour. I’m in the humour now. I shall be cruel when I like. I’m going away again.’ ‘Not again!’ ‘Yes, again. I’m going away now. I’m off directly. I mean to go and live wherever the fancy seizes me, at the wharf — at the counting-house - and be a jolly bachelor. You were a widow in anticipation. Damme,’ screamed the dwarf, ‘I’ll be a bachelor in earnest.’ ‘You can’t be serious, Quilp,’ sobbed his wife. ‘I tell you,’ said the dwarf, exulting in his project, ‘that I’ll be
the pony, without any preliminary objection whatever, had dashed away at full gallop. ‘That’s right!’ said Dick; ‘and hearty of him; and I honour him from this time. But get some supper and a mug of beer, for I am sure you must be tired. Do have a mug of beer. It will do me as much good to see you take it as if I might drink it myself.’ Nothing but this assurance could have prevailed upon the small nurse to indulge in such a luxury. Having eaten and drunk to Mr Swiveller’s extreme contentment,
fatigues? All gone. Sorrow was dead indeed in her, but peace and perfect happiness were born; imaged in her tranquil beauty and profound repose. And still her former self lay there, unaltered in this change. Yes. The old fireside had smiled upon that same sweet face; it had passed like a dream through haunts of misery and care; at the door of the poor schoolmaster on the summer evening, before the furnace fire upon the cold wet night, at the still bedside of the dying boy, there had been the
country beyond the sky, where nothing died or ever grew old - we were very happy once!’ ‘Nelly, Nelly!’ said the poor woman, ‘I can’t bear to see one as young as you, so sorrowful. Pray don’t cry.’ ‘I do so very seldom,’ said Nell, ‘but I have kept this to myself a long time, and I am not quite well I think, for the tears come into my eyes and I cannot keep them back. I don’t mind telling you my grief, for I know you will not tell it to any one again.’ Mrs Quilp turned away her head and made
dwarf remained upon his back in perfect safety, taunting the dog with hideous faces, and triumphing over him in his inability to advance another inch, though there were not a couple of feet between them. ‘Why don’t you come and bite me, why don’t you come and tear me to pieces, you coward?’ said Quilp, hissing and worrying the animal till he was nearly mad. ‘You’re afraid, you bully, you’re afraid, you know you are.’ The dog tore and strained at his chain with starting eyes and furious bark,