Oliver became a lord riding his finest horse, his property, his right.

Sir Oliver being a Parliament-man was much in London and deep in politics and intrigue, and subject, as convivial rogues are, to occasional hard hits from gout.

In his own Line this Oliver was as neat and easy-running as a Red Buggy, but when you started him on the topic of Music he was about as light and speedy as a Steam Roller.

On the wall hung a portrait of a beautiful, mild, lady with sorrowful eyes, of which Oliver was the living copy.

The Rev. George Oliver, D.D., of Lincolnshire, England, who died in 1868, is by far the most distinguished and the most voluminous of the English writers on Freemasonry.

For Fagin, horribly uneasy lest Oliver should be the means of betraying his late companions, resolved to get him back as quickly as possible.

Oh, without a doubt Mrs. Oliver was the woman!

This brought about a violent scene, for Noah accused Oliver of attempting to murder him, and Mrs. Sowerberry, the maid, and the beadle,who had been hastily summoned,agreed that Oliver was a hardened wretch, only fit for confinement, and he was accordingly placed in the cellar, till the undertaker came in, when he was dragged out again to have the story retold.

Mrs. Oliver is a friend of my daughter's.

Not but that Oliver is not a good son to his mothersuch a good lad!and such a good husband he would be to any girl who ..." "A strange youth that secretary of yours, Sir Marmaduke," here interposed Dame Harrison in her loud, dictatorial voice, breaking in on Mistress Pyncheon's dithyrambs, "modest he appears to be, and silent too: a paragon meseems!

Oliver is but a hot-headed boy; had my father been at home it would have been different, and to him I shall make my confession, that I have given liberty tooh, I cannot say a foe, after what you have done for meto a British officer who comes to slay my countrymen!"

Not but that Oliver is not a good son to his mothersuch a good lad!and such a good husband he would be to any girl who ..." "A strange youth that secretary of yours, Sir Marmaduke," here interposed Dame Harrison in her loud, dictatorial voice, breaking in on Mistress Pyncheon's dithyrambs, "modest he appears to be, and silent too: a paragon meseems!

With these and more incoherent exclamations, the young woman burst out crying, and told the onlookers that Oliver was her brother, who had run away from his respectable parents a month ago, joined a gang of thieves and almost broke his mother's heart,to which Oliver, greatly alarmed, replied that he was an orphan, had no sister, and lived at Pentonville.

And why, O, why art thou not near, Our king, our friend, to aid us here? Say, Oliver, how might we bring Our mournful tidings to the king?' Quoth Oliver, 'I know not, I To fly were shame; far better die.' Quoth Roland, 'I my horn will blow, That Charles may hear and Charles may know;

Oliver is the most wonderful person in the world.