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Even in the noble poem Rabbi Ben Ezra, this jolting line appears: "Irks care the crop-full bird? Frets doubt the maw-crammed beast?" and in Sordello, Browning writes: "The Troubadour who sung Hundreds of songs, forgot, its trick his tongue, Its craft his brain." No careful artist tolerates such ugly, rasping inversions.
"Assist" in the sense of to "be present at" is an "absurd" innovation; it was used by Gibbon and by Prescott, a "tolerably good authority," says Mr. Tucker himself, "in the use of English." Miss Yonge is taken to task for saying, "Theodora flung away and was rushing off;" but Milton says, "And crop-full out of doors he flings."
At first these deprivations angered McTeague. Sundays he dined at the car conductors' coffee-joint once more, and spent the afternoon lying full length upon the bed, crop-full, stupid, warm, smoking his huge pipe, drinking his steam beer, and playing his six mournful tunes upon his concertina, dozing off to sleep towards four o'clock.
Then lies him down the lubbar Fiend; And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength: And, crop-full, out of door he flings Ere the first cock his Matins rings. Mr.
It is really true that such a line as "Irks fear the crop-full bird, frets doubt the maw-crammed beast?" is a very ugly and a very bad line. But it is quite equally true that Tennyson's "And that good man, the clergyman, has told me words of peace," is a very ugly and a very bad line. But people do not say that this proves that Tennyson was a mere crabbed controversialist and metaphysician.
All this is precisely the conduct of Robin Goodfellow, described so charmingly by Milton: "Tells how the drudging goblin sweat To earn his cream-bowl duly get, When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail had thresh'd the corn That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lays him down the lubber-fiend, And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength, And crop-full, out of door he flings Ere the first cock his matin rings."
Once in his office, or, as he called it on his signboard, "Dental Parlors," he took off his coat and shoes, unbuttoned his vest, and, having crammed his little stove full of coke, lay back in his operating chair at the bay window, reading the paper, drinking his beer, and smoking his huge porcelain pipe while his food digested; crop-full, stupid, and warm.
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