"Tatter" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... the return you make for my taking you from beggary? Are these the thanks I get for freeing you from rags that you might have hung distaffs with? Is this my reward for having put good clothes on your back when you were a poor, starved, miserable, tatter-shod ragamuffin? But such is the fate of him who washes an ass's head! Go! A curse upon all I have done for you! A fine gold coffin you had prepared for me! A fine funeral you were going to give me! Go, now! serve, labour, toil, sweat to get this fine reward! Unhappy is he who ...
— Stories from Pentamerone • Giambattista Basile
... Durham, Sir, belong." And then, as if the thought would choke Her very heart, her grief grew strong; And all was for her tatter'd Cloak. ...
— Poems In Two Volumes, Vol. 1 • William Wordsworth
... being compiled now," replied the Commissioner. "We already have, Matter, Batter, Tatter, Smatter Patter, ...
— Alice in Blunderland - An Iridescent Dream • John Kendrick Bangs
... and unclenching his hands and quivering with anger. It was in that moment that he most fervently cursed Tressan and his stupid meddling. Had the troopers still been there, they could have made short work of these tatter-demalions. As it was, and with Monsieur de Garnache dead, or at least absent, everything seemed at an end. He might have contended that, his master being slain, it was no great matter what he did, for in the end the Condillacs must surely have their way with Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye. ...
— St. Martin's Summer • Rafael Sabatini
... Each grabbed a tatter of the good flag, pressing hard upon D'ri, and put it to his lips and kissed it proudly. Then we marched up and down, D'ri waving it above us—a bloody squad as ever walked, shouting loudly. D'ri had begun to weaken with loss of blood, so ...
— D'Ri and I • Irving Bacheller
... tear and tatter to pieces the rude coarse materia of things, and think we know the nature of an object, because, like a child with a mirror, we break it to find the image. But the life of the thing—the inner, hidden mystic life of ...
— Sidonia The Sorceress V2 • William Mienhold
... to be a sailor. When the high water came in the spring, the sofa went sailing. He had a Rooster for a crew, while Tatter, the rag doll with one ...
— The Story of a China Cat • Laura Lee Hope
... have been compelled to seek the cause in some yet deeper sympathy than that commonly felt for the oppressed, even by women. And such a sympathy existed, strange as it may seem, between the beautiful girl (for many called her a bonnie lassie) and this "tatter of humanity". Nothing would have been farther from the thoughts of those that knew them, than the supposition of any correspondence or connection between them; yet this sympathy sprang in part from a real similarity in ...
— The Portent & Other Stories • George MacDonald
... dismantle, overturn, ruin everything! It was the collaboration of the pavement, the block of stone, the beam, the bar of iron, the rag, the scrap, the broken pane, the unseated chair, the cabbage-stalk, the tatter, the rag, and the malediction. It was grand and it was petty. It was the abyss parodied on the public place by hubbub. The mass beside the atom; the strip of ruined wall and the broken bowl,—threatening fraternization of every sort ...
— Les Miserables - Complete in Five Volumes • Victor Hugo
... blow strength, his trumpets neigh, They and his horse, and waft him away; They and his foot, with a tir'd proud flow, Tatter'd escapers and givers of woe. Open, ye cities! Hats off! hold breath! To see the man who has been with Death; To see the man who determineth right By the virtue-perplexing virtue of might. Sudden before ...
— Captain Sword and Captain Pen - A Poem • Leigh Hunt
... with a mighty beautiful young crather; but the mirinit I laid my eyes upon her I knew her at once for a neighbour's daughter, one Anty Dooley, who had died a few months before, and who, when she was alive, could beat the whole county round at any sort of reel, jig, or hornpipe. The music struck up 'Tatter Jack Walsh,' and maybe it's she that didn't set, and turn, and thrush the boords, until the young prince hadn't as much breath left in his body as would blow out a rushlight, and he was forced to sit down puffing and panting, and laving his partner ...
— Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 1, Complete • Various
... didn't. He followed Uncle John into the tatter's room and smoked one of the newly-discovered cigars while the elder man lay back in an easy chair and silently puffed ...
— Aunt Jane's Nieces • Edith Van Dyne
... child, Yonder wind howls wild. Hearken, how the rain makes sprays And how neighbour's doggie bays. Doggie has gripped the man forlorn Has the beggar's tatter torn——" ...
— The Son of His Mother • Clara Viebig
... happiness! —But when the unwilling sun crept up again, And loosed the sea from winter and duresse, The seal-wrapt race that roams the Lapland main Saw in Arzina, wondering, fearing more, The tatter'd ships, in snows entomb'd and ...
— The Visions of England - Lyrics on leading men and events in English History • Francis T. Palgrave
... very, O so very glad That I do think there is not to be had . . . . . . . . . . The blue wheat-acre is underneath And the braided ear breaks out of the sheath, The ear in milk, lush the sash, And crush-silk poppies aflash, The blood-gush blade-gash Flame-rash rudred Bud shelling or broad-shed Tatter-tassel-tangled and dingle-a-dangled Dandy-hung dainty head. . . . . . . . And down ... the furrow dry Sunspurge and oxeye And laced-leaved lovely Foam-tuft fumitory . . . . . . . Through the velvety wind V-winged To the nest's nook I balance ...
— Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins - Now First Published • Gerard Manley Hopkins
... of those kind of Men who loved a Bit of Finery in his Heart, and would rather have a tatter'd Rag of a Better Body's, than the best plain whole Thing ...
— A Political Romance • Laurence Sterne
... as he came across the dewy grass on feet of brawn, shaming puny rustics by his huge physique. The photographer mentally limned him: a bushy, low-browed head and dark, reddish, full-lipped face, bearded; muscle massed upon his arms and tatter-clothed legs; a deep, prominent chest; hands large, black, powerful; the whole man advancing with a lightness which in some barbaric conqueror would have been called ...
— Lippincott's Magazine, Vol. 26, August, 1880 - of Popular Literature and Science • Various
... And Fortune is a whore; There's none but knaves and fools regard her, Or her power implore. But he that is a trusty ROGER, And will serve the King; Altho' he be a tatter'd soldier, Yet may skip and sing: Whilst we that fight for love, May in the way of honour prove That they who make sport of us May come short of us; Fate will flatter them, And will scatter them; Whilst our loyalty Looks upon royalty, We that live peacefully, May be successfully ...
— Cavalier Songs and Ballads of England from 1642 to 1684 • Charles Mackay
... thy brow And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held: Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes, Were an all-eating shame and ...
— Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and Other Stories • Oscar Wilde
... I fear, that, in the number of twelve men taken from any country, it may sometimes happen that three may be found corruptible: now the wealthy delinquent can avail himself of this human failing; but, "through tatter'd robes small vices do appear," and the indigent sinner has less chance of ...
— A Residence in France During the Years 1792, 1793, 1794 and 1795, • An English Lady
... boy," Darrel continued. "A pride in rags an' poverty. Bring that into thy book an' let thy best thinking bear upon it. Show us how patch an' tatter were for the poor man as badges of ...
— Darrel of the Blessed Isles • Irving Bacheller
... then a battle, too—no doubt it is A right fine thing; or rather to have been there. But all things have their price; and this, methinks, Is rather dear sometimes. Oh! glory's but The tatter'd banner in a cobwebb'd hall, Open'd not once a-year—a doubtful tomb, With half the name effaced. Of all the bones Have whiten'd battle-fields, how many names Live in the chronicle? and which were in the right? One murder hangs a man ...
— Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Vol. 56, No. 346, August, 1844 • Various
... often leave their cells, And stroll about, but hide their quality, To try good people's hospitality. It happen'd on a winter night, As authors of the legend write, Two brother hermits, saints by trade, Taking their tour in masquerade, Disguis'd in tatter'd habits, went To a small village down in Kent; Where, in the strollers' canting strain, They begg'd from door to door in vain, Try'd ev'ry tone might pity win; But not a soul would let them in. Our wand'ring saints, in woful ...
— The Poems of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Volume I (of 2) • Jonathan Swift
... saints would often leave their cells, And stroll about, but hide their quality, To try good people's hospitality. It happen'd on a winter night, As authors of the legend write, Two brother hermits, saints by trade, Taking their tour in masquerade, Disguis'd in tatter'd habits went To a small village down in Kent; Where, in the stroller's canting strain, They begg'd from door to door in vain, Tried every tone might pity win; But not a soul would take them in. Our wandering saints, in woful state, Treated at this ...
— The Children's Garland from the Best Poets • Various
... I could tell him well enough', said the old wife, and rose up. 'Our Halvor was so lazy and dull, he never did a thing; and besides, he was so ragged, that one tatter took hold of the next tatter on him. No; there never was the making of such a fine fellow in him ...
— Popular Tales from the Norse • Sir George Webbe Dasent
... hag, with age grown double, Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself. Her eyes with scalding-rheum were gall'd, and red, Cold palsy shook her head, her hands seemed wither'd, And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapt The tatter'd remnant of an old striped hanging, Which served to keep her carcass from the cold; So there was nothing of a piece about her. Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patched, With different colour'd ...
— Welsh Folk-Lore - a Collection of the Folk-Tales and Legends of North Wales • Elias Owen
... who of us was most taken aback. But noting Delia's sad wondering face, as her eyes wander'd round the neglected room and rested on the tatter'd ...
— The Splendid Spur • Arthur T. Quiller Couch |
