Word: carting
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Handkerchiefs Ready. A typical sob-coaxer is entitled Doctor Marigold. No doctor. Marigold is actually an itinerant peddler hawking his household wares from the footboard of his cart. His termagant wife cruelly beats their little daughter. During one of his spiels to the assembled yokelry, the wan and feverish tot dies in his arms. Turning on his wife, Marigold cries "Oh woman, woman, you'll never catch my little Sophy by her hair again, for she has flown away from you!" A paragraph later, Mrs. Marigold commits suicide (the river route). Handkerchiefs must be kept at the ready...
...telling him that she must repay the love and kindness of her surrogate father by being his companion and comforter. Tears in his own eyes, old Marigold proclaims the lovers man and wife with his blessing. Five years go by, when a tiny hand turns the doorknob of the cart door, followed by dark eyes and curly locks. "Grandfather," says the little girl. "She can speak!" cries Marigold, as "the happy and yet pitying tears fell rolling down [his] face...
...then to careers in larger companies-Choreographers Frederick Ashton, Antony Tudor, Andrée Howard, Agnes de Mille. Swaddled in wrinkled black tights and shapeless pink top. Teacher Rambert would roam the practice room correcting ("Long the arms"), scolding ("You use your leg like a mop"), occasionally doing exuberant cart wheels across the floor. Still as exuberant as ever, she now celebrates each birthday by doing a "fish dive" into the arms of the nearest partner...
...fans and yak tails, the priests began bringing out the gods. The crowd cheered and surged against police lines at the sight of each deity swathed in colored gauze, profusely garlanded and shaded by an umbrella. In a shimmering uproar of crashing gongs they were loaded aboard their high carts. The 29-year-old Raja of Puri, hereditary superintendent of the Jagannath Temple, swept each cart with a golden broom to show that in the eyes of the god all men are lowly...
Twenty minutes later, Subhadra's cart shuddered on its way. At last, in a din of gongs and cymbals and a blaze of flags came the Lord of the Universe himself. The sound of praying paced the god's slow journey to his garden house, and before his passage people fell back in heaps...