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Mornings in Bow St. 277: [A]fter all, what was his offence but a trifling matter of ‘back slum’ Corinthianism? as the great chronicler of Life in London would phrase it.at back slums (n.) under back, adj.2
Mornings in Bow St. 277: [A]fter all, what was his offence but a trifling matter of ‘back slum’ Corinthianism? as the great chronicler of Life in London would phrase it. Mornings in Bow St. 22: I vaulks myself to a slap bang shop, for a half a pound o'beef; and just as I'd got it up, to pop in the first bit, a voman, vaut I nows nothin on, comes behind me and vips it off the fork.at slap-bang(-shop), n.
Mornings in Bow St. 115: Mykle, when he is beery — and seldom’s the time he is not — is given to dancing.at beery (adj.) under beer, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 31: [He] did intantaneously let fly a right-handed, point-blank belly-go-fister into the bread-basket of the said William Henry.at belly-go-firster (n.) under belly, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 153: A pair of showy young men [...] were brought up from one of the lower apartments (commonly called the Black ‘hole’) in Covent-garden watch-house.at black hole (n.) under black, adj.
Mornings in Bow St. 30: [H]e was aware of the defendant John Bloomer [...] in company with two feminine persons, commonly called ‘ladies of easy virtue,’ by the polite — ‘blowens’ by the vulgar — and ‘courtezans’ by the classically fastidious.at blowen, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 270: [She] planted another kick on his bowel-case.at bowel case (n.) under bowel, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 294: [T]hat description of bipeds commonly called ‘Lobby Loungers,’ or ‘Box-Lobby-loungers,’ or ‘Half-and-half swells;’ that is to say, half sharp and half flat [...] half bully and half boor in plain terms, idle young men.at box-lobby puppy (n.) under box, n.1
Mornings in Bow St. 185: He never meets my wife, Mrs. Wingrove, but he cries — ‘Here's a charming young broom!’ when my wife is not a charming young broom [...] but as honest a woman as ever broke bread.at broom, n.1
Mornings in Bow St. 50: The short gentleman with his bamboo [...] laid about him lustily — ribs, cannisters, or lanterns, it was all one to him.at canister, n.1
Mornings in Bow St. 111: ‘Of what age is the lady?’ asked the magistrate. ‘Your vorship, she’ll be forty-three come a fortnight a’ter next Bar’t'Iemy fair.’ ‘Then she is no chicken!’.at no chicken under chicken, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 40: The schoolmaster’s countenance was [...] excessively bloody; and his left eye was closed by a large blue and green tumour — from an orifice in the centre of which the claret flowed continually towards the corner of his mouth.at claret, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 97: Hallo! says I, how did you come by it? Mum. Hadn’t a word, you know. Only let him come it now, all about it, and I’m satisfied. Don't like to be done.at come it, v.2
Mornings in Bow St. 23: ‘Hallo! missis,’ says I, ‘don't you come that ’ere [i.e. stealing his food] agen’.at come, v.3
Mornings in Bow St. 148: The blood gushed forth in a
torrent; and, whilst poor cookey was looking for his
teeth, complainant called in the watch.at cookee, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 67: Christopher Clutterbuck and Dionysius Dobbs [...] were Corinthians — that is to say, in the fashion of the time, gentlemen who were ‘up, down, and fly to every thing’.at corinthian, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 68: Mr Dionysius Dobbs lisping responsively — ‘That's your sort! Go it, Kitty my covy’!at covey, n.2
Mornings in Bow St. 262: Mr. Nathan Nathan came into the hall, ‘brim-full of the cratur’.at creature, the, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 253: [H]e felt about the round table [...] in the hope of finding a knife. ‘And what would you have done with it if you had found it?’ asked his worship. [...] ‘I’d have dagged it into the heart of ’em at that same time!’.at dag, v.1
Mornings in Bow St. 44: [T]he bearer of it [i.e. a funeral torch] took a little of Deady’s consolatory on his way back from the mournful ceremonies.at deady, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 31: [note] Bread basket, dumpling depot, victualling office, &c. are terms given by ‘The fancy’ to the digestive organ.at victualling department, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 187: John Saunders [...] scampering away towards Kensington as if the deuce was in him.at deuce, n.2
Mornings in Bow St. 85: [A]t length she consented to take a drop of something short — a cool dodger of cloves and brandy.at dodger, n.1
Mornings in Bow St. 152: [T]hese thirteen volumes would be a handsome addition to his little circulating library, and that at a shilling a piece they were certainly ‘dog cheap’.at dog, adv.
Mornings in Bow St. 184: Mr. Daniel Butcher, ‘a jolly young waterman,’ was charged with assaulting Mr. Robert Wingrove, a carpet beater — commonly called ‘Bob Wingrove, the dust-whopper’ .at dust-whopper (n.) under dust, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 106: When she comed up with her phillaloo botheration about nothing in the world.at fillaloo, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 228: Wilkins, having been out on Friday night [...] repaired at five o’clock in the morning to Rowbotham’s ‘final finish’ in James-street, Covent-garden, just by way of finishing himself.at Finish, the, n.
Mornings in Bow St. 157: Mr. George Penderoast, the principal of a flue-feaking establishment — or, in ordinary phrase, a master chimney-sweeper.at flue-faker (n.) under flue, n.1
Mornings in Bow St. 100: [A] person whom he described as a high-flying linen-draper, carrying on business in Parliament-street.at high-flying, adj.
Mornings in Bow St. 179: [A] sturdy, curly- headed, red-faced, knowing-looking fellow, in topp’d boots, bird’s-eye fogle, and poodle benjamin.at fogle, n.
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