Doughboy

“ The hatchments in the dining-room look down on crumbs, dirty plates, spillings of wine, half-thawed ice, stale discoloured heel-taps, scraps of lobster, drumsticks of fowls, and pensive jellies, gradually resolving themselves into a lukewarm gummy soup. The marriage is, by this time, almost as denuded of its show and garnish as the breakfast. Mr Dombey’s servants moralise so much about it, and are so repentant over their early tea, at home, that by eight o’clock or so, they settle down into confirmed seriousness ”

“ I'd like to sip the honey sweet from those red lips, you see;
I love you dearly, dearly, and I want you to love me;
You are my honey, honeysuckle, I am the bee.
Doughy still muttered, but the beer had deadened his senses and his jealous anger had evaporated. Half an hour later his wife crossed the street cautiously and went inside. Doughy saw her and, having reached the maudlin stage, got up and lurched across the street, anxious to make it up and be friends. Quite like the old times, thought Mrs Yabsley, when the street was as good as a play. ”

“ In the daylight it seemed even more unkempt, but less forbidding. A two-burner kerosene stove stood upon an empty box just under the window. On another upturned box at its side lay a few odds and ends of cooking utensils, shriveling bits of food, a plate or two. He found a loaf of dry bread and cut a slice from it. This, together with a glass of water, completed his breakfast.
He tried to brush his weather-beaten clothes into decency with a stump of a whisk broom and to wipe the dust of the highroad from his almost spent shoes. ”

“ Douglas. "Go back at the last moment, and the breakfast ready, and the carriages waiting, and every one at the church, and your trousseau not even paid for on the strength of the credit of this marriage! My dear Lauraine, you must be a perfect idiot!"
The girl's face grows cold, her hand falls to her side. "I dare say I am," she says bitterly. "I feel it now."
"Your nerves are shaken—you are getting hysterical," exclaims Mrs. Douglas. "Of course it is a very trying time, my dear. You must have some sal volatile before you start. ”

“ A half hour later a monstrous man with glittering eyes and clawlike fingers came in, carrying breakfast—a large dishpan filled with a slimy mush, two slices of dry bread, and a mound of greasy hash. Fred turned away with a movement of supreme disgust. The gigantic attendant laughed.
There came a call of, "All outside!" echoing through the halls; a rush of feet again, a hushed succeeding silence. The half-mad ogre went to the window and slyly beckoned Fred to follow. He crawled out of bed and took his place before the iron bars. The man pointed a skinny finger; Fred's gaze followed. ”

“ The old man turns at the barn, but Mike comes on down to us.
“Howdy,” says Mike. “How’s everything, boys?”
“Ain’t able to kick,” says Telescope. “How’s it with you?”
“Tolable. See Doughgod in town?”
“He was there the last we seen of him,” admits Muley. “Why?”
“Going down to see him. Dang this trustee business, anyway. Nothing but trouble. Me and the old man have decided to accept that teacher that wrote to Doughgod, even if she is a female. Never mix into the school-teacher business, boys. She’s ——!”
“She is,” agrees Muley, and we all nods. ”

“ Nevertheless, when Douglas was nearly five years old, he achieved a minor climax that the most indulgent father could not overlook. Despite all warnings and commands, Douglas would steal from the larder. When there were cakes or tarts he took those for preference, but when there was nothing else he would steal bread, merely, as it seemed, for the pleasure of stealing it. His father had protested to his mother that everything should be kept under lock and key, but as Mrs. Owen explained: “You can’t expect a cook to be for ever locking things up.” ”

“ Their father was so angry that he quaked and caved in Billy (Bob, Brad, Benny) ’s room, crushing all his tools and all his trophies.
But a lot of time had gone by and the brothers weren’t kids anymore. Alan was nineteen, ready to move to Toronto and start scouting for real estate. Only Doug still looked like a little boy, albeit a stumpy and desiccated one. He hollered and stamped until his fingerbones rattled on the floor and his tongue flew across the room and cracked on the wall. When his anger was spent, he crawled atop their mother and let her rock him into a long, long slumber. ”

“ I shall never forget going there to a children's party with David and Jock. Great-aunt Alison warned us most solemnly before we left home about marking the cloth, so we went rather tremblingly. There was a splendid tea in the dining-room with silver candlesticks and pink shades, and lovely china, and a glittering cloth, and heaps of good things to eat—grown-up things like sandwiches and rich cakes, such as we hardly ever saw. Jock was quite small and loved his food even more than he does now, dear lamb. ”

“ Doughgod wanders away, hugging himself, so me and Chuck buys a drink. We meets “Muley” Bowles and “Telescope” Tolliver, and Chuck tells them about the trustee meeting.
“That's a danged shame,” states Telescope. “This here country is pining for the touch of a woman's gentle hand. Now, when she shows up, we got to tell her to pilgrim along. Just 'cause them two old, dried-up specimens don't want women, it ain't no reason why we don't.”
“Dogs in a manger,” says Muley, shaking his fat face until it wobbles. Muley had had about enough cheer for a fat man, and he ain't none too secure on his feet. ”

“ Point her homeward, boys, and make it sudden,” and Doughgod lopes on up the street.
He sure is skittish around calico.
“We’ve got to stand together,” observes Chuck, pulling on his boots. “We’ve got to. Divided we fall.”
“Under them circumstances I waves a flag of truce,” says Telescope. “I may kill a friend later on, but it never can be said that a Tolliver ever went back on a friend in need.”
We all plods down the street, with Muley carrying his boots, and, just as we got to the depot, a freight-train whistles. The lady is there. ”

“ He went on.
"It will cost more, I suppose," he muttered regretfully to himself, as he entered a neat cafe where the door was opened to him by a boy in livery.
"Bread and milk," he ordered of the trim maid, and he smiled to himself contentedly at the daintiness with which it was served.
The milk was cool and sweet, and Doodles was hungry. The whistles and clocks announced that it was noon, and soon afterward people began to stream in. Women with shopping-bags and bundles, men with newspapers, hatless working-girls; but everywhere were courtesy and low voices. Doodles was glad of his choice. ”

“ The crowd gathered about, glad of a diversion, and the news travelled across the street to Mrs Yabsley on her veranda. Doughy the baker, stepping down unexpectedly from the Woolpack to borrow a shilling from his wife, had found her drinking beer in the kitchen with Happy Jack. And while Doughy was hammering on the front door, Happy Jack had slipped out at the back, and was watching Doughy's antics over the shoulders of his pals. Presently Doughy grew tired and, crossing the street, sat on the kerbstone in front of Mrs Yabsley's, with his eye on the door. ”

“ Our confidence is returning fast. Not a sound can we hear, not even the breathing of the Beast. I get out some biscuits, and Joky, after rummaging in the locker, produces a small piece of pork and a bottle of ship's vinegar. We fall to with a relish. After our long abstinence from food the meal acts on us like wine, and what must Joky do but insist on opening the door, to make sure the Thing has gone. This I will not allow, telling him that at least it will be safer to open the iron port-covers first and have a look out. Joky argues, but I am immovable. ”

“ Every man is, I believe, a gourmand at heart, but the chance of being a glutton does not come to all. Greystock gave my husband plenty of opportunities of indulging his liking for dainties; and when Ronald and I ate at our table together, I had to listen to long lectures on the art of cooking. They were not uninstructive lectures; most women will do well to listen when a lord of the creation discourses of roast and boiled, sauce and gravy; but the consciousness of an empty purse made all this talk a weariness to we. Worse than a weariness—it was a pain. ”

“ If my friend Dombey suffers from bodily weakness, and would allow me to recommend what has frequently done myself good, as a man who has been extremely queer at times, and who lived pretty freely in the days when men lived very freely, I should say, let it be in point of fact the yolk of an egg, beat up with sugar and nutmeg, in a glass of sherry, and taken in the morning with a slice of dry toast. ”

“ John gazed at her in horror. "Good eating!" he cried; "woman, would you murder me?" "I can't say it would be exactly murder," she replied, looking at him hungrily. "To destroy life is murder!" he said, sternly. "But to destroy gingerbread isn't," she rejoined. "And I can't see that it's cannibalism to eat a man if he happens to be cake, and fresh baked. And that frosting looks good. Come inside while I get a knife." She opened the gate and tried to grab John Dough by an arm. ”

“ Geoffrey shook his head, annoyed.
"I particularly asked for plenty of butter on my toast!" he said. "I hate buttered toast if there isn't lots of butter. It isn't worth eating. Get me a couple of pats, will you, and I'll spread it myself. Do hurry, please, before the toast gets cold. It's no good if the toast gets cold. They don't understand tea as a meal at these places," he said to Maud, as the mourner withdrew. "You have to go to the country to appreciate the real thing. I remember we lay off Lyme Regis down Devonshire way, for a few days, and I went and had tea at a farmhouse there. ”

“ This irrepressible spirit in dough is the surest test of its goodness, and when perfectly developed you can do as you please with the dough. You may roll it, or twist it, or plait it, with the greatest ease. You can mold it into any form without trouble. It does not stick to the hands or the molding board. It is in its most amiable mood. It is perfectly docile and obedient except in one respect—it can not be put down and kept down; and any bread dough that can is poor stuff that will never rise to distinction or win admiration. ”

“ She looked very demure in her great apron but her eyes were dancing with the remembrance of her morning’s escapade.
“You look very perky this morning, honey,” said Douglas, as she packed a basket of turnovers and cheese cakes with great care not to crush those wonders of culinary art.
“You look tolerable perky yourself,” retorted her sister. Just as the sophomores and seniors of a college seem to fraternize, so it is often the case with the first and third members of a family. [187] Douglas and Nan hit it off better with one another than they did with either Helen or Lucy. ”

“ Dougherty altered those intentions. He had been casting stealthy glances at his attractive companion and he was seized with the conviction that she was no selling plater. He resolved to parade with his wife past Seltzer's café, where at this time a number of his tribe would be gathered to view the daily evening procession. Yes; and he would take her to dine at Hoogley's, the swellest slow-lunch warehouse on the line, he said to himself. ”

“ The last dish was finally empty, and Doodles looked up with a seraphic smile.
“When I’m a man,” he said, “I’m going to save my money and give ice cream every day to all the folks that can’t have any!”
“Like it?” queried Blue, with a mischievous lift of his eyebrows.
“It’s the best thing to eat in the whole world! Why,” he went on solemnly, “I wouldn’t have missed mine for—fifty cents!” The afternoon’s delights were many and marvelous. ”

“ Major Bagstock delivered himself of these expressions on receiving Mr Dombey as his guest at the head of his own staircase in Princess's Place. Mr Dombey had come to breakfast with the Major, previous to their setting forth on their trip; and the ill-starred Native had already undergone a world of misery arising out of the muffins, while, in connexion with the general question of boiled eggs, life was a burden to him. ”

“ Douglas was a remarkable man, both in character and in person. In age he may have been about fifty, with a strong-jawed, rugged face, a grizzling moustache, peculiarly keen gray eyes, and a wiry, vigorous figure which had lost nothing of the strength and activity of youth. He was cheery and genial to all, but somewhat offhand in his manners, giving the impression that he had seen life in social strata on some far lower horizon than the county society of Sussex. ”

“ In age he was rather younger than Douglas—forty-five at the most—a tall, straight, broad-chested fellow with a clean-shaved, prize-fighter face, thick, strong, black eyebrows, and a pair of masterful black eyes which might, even without the aid of his very capable hands, clear a way for him through a hostile crowd. ”

“ With these words he turned his back, and abruptly left his cousin, who returned to Douglas, ill satisfied with the success of his message, but, nevertheless, delivered it faithfully. "That curst carle," said the Douglas, "is a thorn in my thigh, as well as a buckler on my arm. He's as cunning as a fox, as stubborn as an oak, and as fierce as a lion. I must temporize for the present, as I cannot do without his support, but the time may come that he may be humbled, and made to know his betters; since one endeavour has failed, we must try another, and, if that do not succeed, another still." ”