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Updated: May 6, 2025
After wasting half-a-crown on the cocoanuts, Rudd captured first go at the darts a wonderful vase decorated with the gilt legend, "A Present from Fernhurst," and Gordon at the rifle range won a beautiful china shepherdess which held for days the admiration of the School House, until pining perhaps for its lover, which by no outlay of darts could Gordon secure, it became dislodged from the bracket and fell in pieces on the floor, to be swept away by Arthur, the school custos, into the perpetual darkness of the dustbin.
Else we cannot believe that for years the bank opposite the terrace at Barnes and the villas above it would have been given up to the shooting of dustbin refuse for hundreds of yards, or that Chiswick and Richmond would have been permitted to pour "sewage effluent" into what are still two of the finest reaches on the London river, or that we should see advertisements of "A Site on the River Suitable for a Nuisance Trade," advertised, as was recently done, in a daily paper.
No doubt, the wax grew dusty, and the figures lost their heads and hands, and some petulant châtelaine doomed the ruined treasure to the dustbin. No mention of Mme de Sévigné is made in the inventory of the "Chambre des Sublimes," and yet there is no one to whom we owe an exacter portraiture of its inmates, nor one who was more worthy to animate its golden recesses.
When extra dull our home-made band played some rousing selection; my special instrument required much skill, and consisted of the dustbin lid and a poker. The climax was reached one day when the sentry entered with a paper from the canteen, announcing that the British claimed to have shot down two Zeppelins in flames over London.
He turned back and went in at the garden gate, making for the front door. Half-way down one side of the house stood out a projection like a very low shed; it was, as he afterwards discovered, a large dustbin. Round the corner of this came a figure, at first a mere shadow in the haze, apparently bending and peering about.
The moment we found that we could do without Shelley's almighty fiend intellectually, he went into the gulf that seemed only a dustbin with a suddenness that made our own lives one of the most astonishing periods in history.
He is the kind of officer, the working, clear-thinking type, who would earn promotion by success at arms in a long war, while the gallery-play crowd whose promotion and favors come by political gift and academic reports in time of peace would be swept into the dustbin. He was simply a capable fighter; and war is fighting. His men had gone over the "lid" in excellent fashion, quite on time.
THE CHILDREN: Where's the great light? He jerks on. A pigmy woman swings on a rope slung between two railings, counting. A form sprawled against a dustbin and muffled by its arm and hat snores, groans, grinding growling teeth, and snores again. On a step a gnome totting among a rubbishtip crouches to shoulder a sack of rags and bones.
The heart of the ancient prizefighter in Sapps Court swelled with joy when the day of Dave's return was officially announced. He was, said Aunt M'riar, in and out all the afternoon, fidgeting-like, when it actually came. And the frost was that hard that ashes out of the dustbin had to be strewed over the paving to prevent your slipping.
This accomplishment, with some other learning gained in those strenuous and bracing times, had justified him in answering a Times advertisement for a sober, active, and intelligent young man, possessing the requisite knowledge of London "Cripps!" said W. Keyse, "as if I couldn't pick my way about the Bally Old Dustbin blindfolded!" to act in the capacity of chauffeur to a West End medical practitioner.
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