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Updated: June 5, 2025
And after listening to the stout, brawny, two-fisted, whole-soled, big-hearted, large-brained Parson A , as he talked in his wise and winsome manner about Charles Lamed and his writings, I could not refrain from forthwith procuring and reading Elia's famous and immortal essays.
She had "looked in" on the momentous morning, having been out to purchase "kidney pertaties," yet, on their Hampstead junketting, we find her coming with the Raddles, in their cab, all the way from Lant Street, Borough. She was clearly Mrs. Raddle's friend and neighbour. Perhaps she had moved, though this is not likely. The household gods of such, like Elia's, strike a deep root.
A few more omissions might have been made with advantage, especially a brutal passage about Charles Lamb and his sister, which Elia's countless admirers find it hard to forgive. Mrs. Procter, widow of Barry Cornwall, the poet, and herself a most remarkable woman, was so much annoyed by the description of her mother, Mrs.
Suddenly he swung round on Elia, and, with an arm outstretched, and a great finger pointing, he cried, "Why did you kill Will Henderson?" Inspiration had come. A great light of hope shone in his eyes. His demand was irresistible to the suffering, demented boy. Elia's eyes gleamed with a sudden cruel frenzy. There was the light of madness in them, a vicious, furious madness in them.
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