Francis Hopkinson Smith

Francis Hopkinson Smith

Summary

Portrait of Francis Hopkinson Smith Francis Hopkinson Smith In Dickens's London — Chapter 1 (1914)

Here, too, within reach of the rummery, was a coffee-room, its yard wall lighted by a line of windows propping up a smoke-dried ceiling, their rays falling on a row of white-clothed tables, framed in settles, with pew backs—so high that the fellow in the next pew could by no possible stretch of his neck discover what the fellow in the adjoining pew was having for dinner—unless, of course, he stood on the settle and looked over the top—an unheard of liberty in so well-bred an inn as the "George."
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Francis Hopkinson Smith Francis Hopkinson Smith In Dickens's London — Chapter 1 (1914)

What did interest me—interest me enormously—was the hostelry itself—particularly that part of the sleeping gallery from which the musical chambermaid shouted to the boot cleaner in the sleeve waistcoat with blue-glass buttons. But for a coat of paint applied every twenty years or so, and the bracing up of a snaggle-toothed balustrade, it is precisely as Mr. Dickens saw and described it seventy-five years ago in his immortal "Pickwick."
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Francis Hopkinson Smith Francis Hopkinson Smith In Dickens's London — Chapter 1 (1914)

Looked at close by, however, say from beneath the chambermaid's gallery, it resolves itself to your glad surprise into quite another kind of rookery, putting to flight all your first conclusions; the same sort of surprise that comes to a man who, having made up his mind to ignore some approaching shabby person, finds himself bowing and scraping when he gets near enough to look into the kindly eyes and reassuring face of the misjudged individual.
It did not take me many minutes to change my own opinion of "George Inn."
Source: Wikisource

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