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Essay(s) by Stephen Leacock
The New Food
Stephen Leacock
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       I see from the current columns of the daily press that "Professor Plumb, of the University of Chicago, has just invented a highly concentrated form of food. All the essential nutritive elements are put together in the form of pellets, each of which contains from one to two hundred times as much nourishment as an ounce of an ordinary article of diet. These pellets, diluted with water, will form all that is necessary to support life. The professor looks forward confidently to revolutionizing the present food system."
       Now this kind of thing may be all very well in its way, but it is going to have its drawbacks as well. In the bright future anticipated by Professor Plumb, we can easily imagine such incidents as the following:
       The smiling family were gathered round the hospitable board. The table was plenteously laid with a soup-plate in front of each beaming child, a bucket of hot water before the radiant mother, and at the head of the board the Christmas dinner of the happy home, warmly covered by a thimble and resting on a poker chip. The expectant whispers of the little ones were hushed as the father, rising from his chair, lifted the thimble and disclosed a small pill of concentrated nourishment on the chip before him. Christmas turkey, cranberry sauce, plum pudding, mince pie--it was all there, all jammed into that little pill and only waiting to expand. Then the father with deep reverence, and a devout eye alternating between the pill and heaven, lifted his voice in a benediction.
       At this moment there was an agonized cry from the mother.
       "Oh, Henry, quick! Baby has snatched the pill!" It was too true. Dear little Gustavus Adolphus, the golden-haired baby boy, had grabbed the whole Christmas dinner off the poker chip and bolted it. Three hundred and fifty pounds of concentrated nourishment passed down the oesophagus of the unthinking child.
       "Clap him on the back!" cried the distracted mother. "Give him water!"
       The idea was fatal. The water striking the pill caused it to expand. There was a dull rumbling sound and then, with an awful bang, Gustavus Adolphus exploded into fragments!
       And when they gathered the little corpse together, the baby lips were parted in a lingering smile that could only be worn by a child who had eaten thirteen Christmas dinners.
       [The end]
       Stephen Leacock's essay: New Food
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本书目录

"We Have With Us To-Night"
A, B, And C - The Human Element In Mathematics
Abdul Aziz Has His: An Adventure In The Yildiz Kiosk
Are The Rich Happy?
Aristocratic Education
The Awful Fate Of Melpomenus Jones
Back To The Bush
The Balance Of Trade In Impressions
Boarding-House Geometry
Borrowing A Match
The British And The American Press
Business In England. Wanted--More Profiteers
The Call Of The Carburettor, or, Mr. Blinks And His Friends
A Christmas Letter
A Clear View Of The Government And Politics Of England
The Conjurer's Revenge
Every Man And His Friends. Mr. Crunch's
An Experiment With Policeman Hogan
The Force Of Statistics
Foreign Fiction In Imported Instalments
Germany From Within Out
Getting The Thread Of It
The Grass Bachelor's Guide
Half-Hours With The Poets
Have The English Any Sense Of Humour?
Helping The Armenians
Hints To Travellers
Hoodoo McFiggin's Christmas
How To Avoid Getting Married
How To Be A Doctor
How To Live To Be 200
How To Make A Million Dollars
Humour As I See It
I Am Interviewed By The Press
Impressions Of London
In Merry Mexico
Insurance Up To Date
Is Prohibition Coming To England?
A Lesson In Fiction
The Life Of John Smith
Lord Oxhead's Secret
Madeline Of The Movies: A Photoplay Done Back Into Words
A Manual Of Education
Men Who Have Shaved Me
A Model Dialogue
More Than Twice-Told Tales; or, Every Man his Own Hero
My Financial Career
The New Food
A New Pathology
Number Fifty-Six
On Collecting Things
Over The Grape Juice; or, The Peacemakers
Oxford As I See It
The Passing Of The Poet
The Poet Answered
Reflections On Riding
Saloonio
Self-Made Men
Snoopopaths; or, Fifty Stories In One
Society Chat-Chat
Stories Shorter Still
A Study In Still Life--My Tailor
A Study In Still Life.--The Country Hotel
Telling His Faults
The Two Sexes In Fives Or Sixes
The White House From Without In
Winter Pastimes