- end_line
- 2742
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:05.590Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 2725
- text
- prophetical ghost, glimmering in anticipation upon the advent of those
tragic scenes of the French Revolution which levelled the exquisite
refinement of Paris with the bloodthirsty ferocity of Borneo; showing
that broaches and finger-rings, not less than nose-rings and tattooing,
are tokens of the primeval savageness which ever slumbers in human
kind, civilized or uncivilized.
Israel slept not a wink that night. The troubled spirit of Paul paced
the chamber till morning; when, copiously bathing himself at the
wash-stand, Paul looked care-free and fresh as a daybreak hawk. After a
closeted consultation with Doctor Franklin, he left the place with a
light and dandified air, switching his gold-headed cane, and throwing a
passing arm round all the pretty chambermaids he encountered, kissing
them resoundingly, as if saluting a frigate. All barbarians are rakes.
- title
- Chunk 3