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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Brother Jacob," said May, "I am so glad you are come. I wanted to ask you to collect me some shells, as many as you can find time to gather; not all winkles and cockles, remember, but as great a variety as possible. The ladies have a fancy for making a grotto in the garden, and I have undertaken to adorn the inside with shapes of all sorts of strange creatures to be formed with the shells.
What Good will it do, he asks, to make poor people six-and-thirty feet high? He really believes, you know, that they will be thirty-six feet high." "So they would be," said Bensington, "if you gave them our food at all regularly. But nobody said anything " "I said something." "But, my dear Winkles !"
How glad I am to know it!" "Yes, my dear daughter," said her venerable son-in-law, running his fingers through his niveous thatch, "he was the first of the time- wasting Van Winkles." Hawkins was not a drinking man. To be sure, he took a glass of something occasionally, but he thoroughly understood himself at the time. He took it to be companionable, that was all.
"These accidents," said Winkles, when Bensington hinted at the dangers of further escapes, "are nothing. Nothing. The discovery is everything. Properly developed, suitably handled, sanely controlled, we have we have something very portentous indeed in this food of ours.... We must keep our eye on it ... We mustn't let it out of control again, and we mustn't let it rest."
That idea met with rather a hearty reception. Within three minutes all six high school boys were lying between blankets again, composed for sleep. No more explosions came to disturb their slumbers, which were deep and broken only when at last Dick Prescott called out: "Fellows, we're regular Rip Van Winkles! It's half-past nine o'clock!"
I'm that empty my blessed ribs is a-shaking hands with each other; and ten minutes ago, when I et a pint of winkles, the noise as they made a-gettin' by 'em, sir, you'd a thought it was somebody a-tumbling downstairs. But they say as every dog has his day, so I'm always a-livin' in hopes, sir." "Hopes? Hopes of what?"
"I don't like that name," said Bensington, with a glance over his glasses. "It is just so exactly what it is to Winkles." "Why does he keep on about it? It isn't his!" "It's something called Booming," said Redwood. "I don't understand. If it isn't his, everybody is getting to think it is. Not that that matters."
'E's peaceable enough when the liquor's out of 'im. But their 'ands comes so 'eavy. They don't know how 'eavy their 'ands comes." Thus Mrs. Wemock, standing in the doorway, for the moment holding Orlando, who resented his transfer with a subdued howl of grief, and looked anxiously down the alley toward Polly's retreating figure. "'Ush now an' ma'll give him a winkle. Polly's gone for winkles.
There was a panic quite naturally, a passionate indignation, but it was indignation not against Doctor Winkles but against the Food, and not so much against the Food as against the unfortunate Bensington, whom from the very first the popular imagination had insisted upon regarding as the sole and only person responsible for this new thing.
The women whose trades have been noted are dealers in fish, shrimps, and winkles, and sometimes oysters, fruit, and vegetables, fruit predominating, orange-women and girls being as much a feature of London street life as in the days of pretty Nelly Gwynne.
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