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Unformatted text preview: . As much mud in the streets
as if the waters had but newly retired from the face of the earth, and it would not
be wonderful to meet a Megalosaurus, forty feet long or so, waddling like an
elephantine lizard up Holborn Hill. Smoke lowering down from chimney-pots,
making a soft black drizzle, with flakes of soot in it as big as full-grown snowki
flakes — gone into mourning, one might imagine, for the death of the sun.
Dogs, undistinguishable in mire. Horses, scarcely better; splashed to their very
blinkers. Foot passengers, jostling one another’s umbrellas in a general
infection of ill-temper, and losing their foot-hold at street-corners, where tens of
thousands of other foot passengers have been slipping and sliding since the day
broke (if the day ever broke), adding new deposits to the crust upon crust of
mud, sticking at those points tenaciously to the pavement, and accumulating at
compound interest. 1852 11 Compsognathus...
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- Spring '13