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Updated: June 14, 2025
Ponderevo, so that out of a simple concoction of drugs and water he was able to capture the money of hundreds of thousands who fondly believed that Tono-Bungay would give them new vigour and zest in life. Mr. Wells describes to us the sudden rise and development of Mr.
Moderate success might have meant a Grammar School for young Wells, and the temptations of property, but Fate gave our young radical another twist by thrusting him temporarily within sight of an alien and magnificent prosperity, where as the son of the housekeeper at Up Park, near Petersfield, he might recognise his immense separation from the members of the ruling class, as described in Tono-Bungay.
She had been dying to know what he had done, but now, after Ralph had stayed to lunch and tea and dinner that first day, after he had spent all yesterday at the Manor, and after he had turned up to-day at ten o'clock in the morning, Barbara thought she had made out the history, though they had been very discreet and Fanny had insisted on reading "Tono-Bungay" out loud half the time.
This has bucked her up something wonderful all this." "All what?" "Tono-Bungay." "What is Tono-Bungay?" I asked. My uncle hesitated. "Tell you after lunch, George," he said. "Come along!" and having locked up the sanctum after himself, led the way along a narrow dirty pavement, lined with barrows and swept at times by avalanche-like porters bearing burthens to vans, to Farringdon Street.
I suppose any creative and developing game would have interested me in those years. At any rate, I know I put as much zeal into this Tono-Bungay as any young lieutenant could have done who suddenly found himself in command of a ship.
I never really determined whether my uncle regarded Tono-Bungay as a fraud, or whether he didn't come to believe in it in a kind of way by the mere reiteration of his own assertions. I think that his average attitude was one of kindly, almost parental, toleration.
"Read it," and he thrust into my hand a label that label that has now become one of the most familiar objects of the chemist's shop, the greenish-blue rather old-fashioned bordering, the legend, the name in good black type, very clear, and the strong man all set about with lightning flashes above the double column of skilful lies in red the label of Tono-Bungay.
Tess is the thing, you know, and Tono-Bungay, and The Nigger of the Narcissus... I usen't to think so. I've grown older, haven't I?" He had. "What do you think of Discipline now?" I asked. "Oh, Lord!" he blushed, "I was a young cuckoo." "And what about knowing all about Russia after a week?" "No and that reminds me!" He drew his chair closer to my bed. "That's what I've come to talk about.
She was there to keep him off her, so that Fanny might have more time to find herself alone in. She saw it all. "'Tono-Bungay," she said. "Was that what you sent me out with Mr. Bevan for?" "It was. How clever of you, Barbara." Mr. Waddington closed the door on Miss Madden slowly and gently so that the action should not strike her as dismissive.
My special and distinctive duty was to give Tono-Bungay substance and an outward and visible bottle, to translate my uncle's great imaginings into the creation of case after case of labelled bottles of nonsense, and the punctual discharge of them by railway, road and steamer towards their ultimate goal in the Great Stomach of the People.
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