Armfull

[I]t was thus the passion of Mr. Panton allayed its overflowings: for very shortly after his marriage, he again fell passionately in love with another lady; a bona roba Queen, the full head taller than himself, and more than an armfull.

They then brought up a part of the board fence of the Convent lands, the fence wood was laid on the tar barrels, to make a bonfire, to raise an alarm of fire, and collect a greater number of people, there was a steady stream of people coming up with armsfull of the fence to feed the bonfire, I have no doubt that the tall man I saw is the prisoner at the bar.

In this state of the weather, and before sunrise, in the grey of the morning, we had to wade off, nearly up to our hips in water, to load the skiff with the wood by armsfull.

Therefore the Secretary of War (I remember he was a little man) went and fetched a large armfull of books, and looked, and did not find my father’s name; he went and fetched another armfull of books, and soon found my father’s name, and said if I was the only heir of my father, I could get the land.

While this interesting operation is proceeding, red postmen in waiting are carrying off in armfulls all approved letters to two other tables, at which, if possible with still greater celerity, their stamps are obliterated by the right-hands of twenty stampers, who from long practice in their regicidal duty can destroy from 6000 to 7000 Queen’s heads in an hour, or, for a short time, 140 per minute!

“‘Just so. The world is God’s garden, and the people His flowers: white and yellow.’ But Mahnaht (the devil) comes in with his legion, and pulls them here—there—armfull after armfull, saying I’ll have all the red, and all the yellow, to keep my fires burning. But God says, “No! You shall not destroy my flowers.”’

Not only was the temple filled with French soldiers, but a clump of rose-trees and flowering shrubs had been torn up by the roots, to make a clear space for a large fire, the fuel for which was being carried in armsfull from the adjacent wood-house.

Mrs. Grote to Sir William Molesworth, Bart., M.P. / Solothurn, 13th August, 1837. / […] “Mousing” in the “Buchhandlerungen” is the great pastime, lugging away armsfull of stuff to cram the carriage withal, to the dismay of poor “Henry,” who is at his wits’ end how to stow the same so as to leave room for “Mistress” to get in.