A sable silver’d.
—Shakespeare (dialogue between Hamlet, Marcellus and Bernardo).
“Yo ho, my boys!” said Fezziwig. “No more work to-night. Christmas Eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let’s have the shutters up, before a man can say Jack Robinson!”
You wouldn’t believe how those two fellows went at it! They charged into the street with the shutters—one, two, three—had ’em up in their places—four, five, six—barred ’em and pinned ’em—seven, eight, nine—and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting like race-horses.
“Hilli-ho!” cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk, with wonderful agility. “Clear away, my lads, and let’s have lots of room here! Hilli-ho! Dick! Chirrup, Ebenezer!”
—Dickens.
What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck?