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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Well, she objected to the adjective 'heavy, and wanted me to insert another. What word do you think she suggested?" "Can't say at all. Golden, perhaps!" "Worse!" he answered, with a groan. "Golden is hackneyed but still conceivable. No Crimpy! my dear fellow! Think of it!" I went into a fit of laughter. "Heavens! well I must say I never should have thought of that," I said. "What a fearful girl.
And this other little Nannette never tires of hearing the romantic story of the indolent "Didy" and the "real little live baby that will cry." Molly was six years old; a plump, roly-poly little girl with long, crimpy golden hair and great blue eyes. She had ever so many brothers; Fred, a year older than herself, and who went to the Kindergarten with her, was her favorite.
I can readily imagine that to some sanguine temperaments it would be altogether intolerable. For example, I cannot credit that the mettlesome poet Byron would have contentedly sat down with Bartleby to examine a law document of, say five hundred pages, closely written in a crimpy hand.
It pleased him almost to childishness to find how easily he could listen and even talk to the oiled and crimpy little barber, and to the pretty, consumptive-looking, print-dressed baker's wife. Whatever his face might now be conniving at, the Arthur Lawford of last week could never have hob-nobbed so affably with his social 'inferiors.
Anything would be better than to go through life with a girl who didn't feel there are some things no fellar can do; and one of them, that he can't put a word like crimpy in his sonnet." "Been doing any work?" "Yes; one poem. Like to see it?" "Very much." He got up and went to a table littered all over with papers written, printed, and blank.
"You haven't very much chance of going there. But, crimpy! wouldn't it be great if Uncle Dick did take us?" "Remember our school duties, children," drawled Louise. "'Still H E ving, still pursuing. We must not cry for the moon." Thus, with a great deal of laughter and good-natured chatter, the cavalcade trotted on and came finally to what Louise and Bobby said was the entrance to Bolter's Farm.
I could expect "crimpy" weather, and every moment of delay increased the frigid hardships of the journey. Furthermore, I was disgusted. The distance between Montreal and Ottawa is one hundred and twenty miles. I ought to know, for I had just come over it and it had taken me six days. By mistake I had missed the main line and come over a small "jerk" with only two locals a day on it.
And to show his tenacious adherence to the examples set by the State, he dresses exactly as his grandfather's great-grandfather used to, in a blue coat, with small brass buttons, a narrow crimpy collar, and tails long enough and sharp enough for a clipper-ship's run.
I can readily imagine that, to some sanguine temperaments, it would be altogether intolerable. For example, I cannot credit that the mettlesome poet, Byron, would have contentedly sat down with Bartleby to examine a law document of, say five hundred pages, closely written in a crimpy hand.
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