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Updated: May 11, 2025
Polly found himself among the various sonorous things with which Mr. Rusper adorned the front of his shop, zinc dustbins, household pails, lawn mowers, rakes, spades and all manner of clattering things.
To heaven gaped the black, noisome mouths of burning-pits wherein the more economical citizens were accustomed nightly to get rid of the contents of their dustbins.
Seeing that he would have time after dinner, he at once sent for Professor Gottsched, a gigantic gentleman, Reigning King of German Literature for the time being, to come to him at 3 P.M. Reigning King at that time; since gone wholly to the Dustbins, 'Popular Delusion, as old Samuel defines it, having since awakened to itself, with scornful ha-ha's upon its poor Gottsched, and rushed into other roads worse and better; its poor Gottsched become a name now signifying Pedantry, Stupidity, learned Inanity and the Worship of Colored Water, to every German mind.
Thinks he knows the world, from having sifted and sorted a lot of our dustbins; as the modern Realists imagine it's an exposition of positive human nature when they've pulled down our noses to the worst parts if there's a worse where all are useful: but the Realism of the dogs is to have us by the nose: excite it and befoul it, and you're fearfully credible!
Thinks he knows the world, from having sifted and sorted a lot of our dustbins; as the modern Realists imagine it's an exposition of positive human nature when they've pulled down our noses to the worst parts if there's a worse where all are useful: but the Realism of the dogs is to have us by the nose: excite it and befoul it, and you're fearfully credible!
"But, Pelle!" said Morten, with a meaning smile, laying his hand on his shoulder, "a leader is not Judge Lynch. Otherwise the parties would fight it out with clubs!" "Ah, you are thinking of what happened just now!" said Pelle. "That had nothing to do with the Movement! He said my father was going about the backyards fishing things out of dustbins so I gave him a few on the jaw.
In the backyard, in a shed, which looked like the remains of an old farm cottage, was Lasse's home. It looked as though it had once been used as a fuel-shed; the floor was of beaten earth and the roof consisted of loose boards. Under the roof cords were stretched, on which rags, paper, and other articles from the dustbins were hung to dry.
The dustbins from the kitchen found their way in there too. The charwoman was always in a hurry, and anything she couldn't use for the time being she would just chuck in there. He, fortunately, would usually see no more than the object and the hand that held it.
"I've no intention of being content," he said. "I just happen to have hit the rocks but I'll get sailing again one of these days." "Well I'm glad to hear you say so, and now I must toddle along." He asked what employment could engage her at so early an hour. "I'm going to pick over the dustbins in Bond Street," she returned, and added "You never know what you'll find. Only you must be early.
Of all God-forsaken dustbins of Nature, I think the most heart-breaking are places like that bandstand, that were meant to be festive and are forlorn. I can fancy a morbid man feeling he must kill his rival in the solitude and irony of such a scene.
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