A Little Bit of Dickens-esque Prose

This is what happens when I read Pickwick: I get hungry (they eat so much good food in that book!) and then I start to write like I was born two hundred years ago. Meet Arabella and Euphemia Spriggs, two spinster sisters who marched into my head and refused to be escorted off the premises unless it was onto a nice blank sheet of paper.

These two venerable ladies went about town on all days of the week. It was their habit to roundly and unfailingly condemn every acquaintance whom they glanced upon, and various and sundry others whom they had never laid eyes on before: This one was miserly, that one frivolous. She was too boisterous, he too withdrawn. There was a liar, there a thief, and there a fraud. This rather singular pastime  unsurprisingly did not win the pair many friends, but if you had asked the two why this was, they would undoubtedly have replied that young people these days were much too judgmental, denounced you as nosy, and gone off in high dudgeon.

Side note: after I had named Euphemia, I found out that the name means "to speak well." Ironic, no? Arabella means "prayerful." Hardly more appropriate; what were the late Mr. and Mrs. Spriggs thinking?