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Updated: April 30, 2025


Eleven years of age, she had at last begun to grow in earnest: her legs were as of old mere spindleshanks, but nearly twice as long; and her fat little body, perched above them, made one think of a shrivelled-up old man who has run all to paunch.

"Mair business than you, spindleshanks, ye son o' a thievin' lawyer," and although Peter was four years younger and small for his age, he showed that he had not learned boxing from his father's grooms without profit, and his opponent attended no more classes that day. This encounter excited the deepest interest and revived the whole life of the school.

The Queen pondered the whole night over all the names she had ever heard, and sent messengers to scour the land, and to pick up far and near any names they should come across. When the little man arrived she began with Kasper, Melchior, Belshazzer, Sheepshanks, Cruickshanks, Spindleshanks, and so on through the long list. At every name the little man shook his head.

I sallied forth to see the cause of the uproar, and found our host engaged in single combat with a drawn sword stick that sparkled blue and bright in the moonbeam, his antagonist being a strong porker that he had taken for a town guard, and had hemmed into a corner formed by the stair and the garden wall, which, on being pressed, made a dash between his spindleshanks, and fairly capsized him into my arms.

"Oh, if you'd seen her!" says he "such spindleshanks!" At this Marryatt gets behind him, draws a silken chair-back over his face, thus mercifully putting an end to his spoken recollections. "If I were you, Tita, I should order Randal off to bed," says Margaret, who, I regret to say, is laughing. "He has been up quite long enough for a child of his years."

The King cast an appraising glance at her shapely legs, and then tethered his horse to an old oak. "Are you a creature of the woods?" he said. Madcap Moll tossed her curls. "Ask me!" she cried derisively. "I am asking you," replied the King. "Odds fudge you have spindleshanks!" cried Madcap Moll irrelevantly. The King was charmed. He leant towards her. "One kiss, mistress!" he implored.

Uncle Fliakim Sheril, furbished up in a new crisp black suit, and with his spindleshanks trimly incased in the smoothest of black silk stockings, looking for all the world just like an alert and spirited black cricket, outdid himself on this occasion in singing counter, in that high, weird voice that he must have learned from the wintry winds that usually piped around the corners of the old house.

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