[Zoidberg-devel] that Dorothy started off at once, as fast

[Catanach <av...@th...>]

T 'em,--that is, not in _this_ shop." Now, while this conversation was
going on, Dorothy noticed that the various things in the shop-window had
a curious way of constantly turning into something else. She discovered
this by seeing a little bunch of yellow peg-tops change into a plateful
of pears while she chanced to be looking at them; and a moment afterward
she caught a doll's saucepan, that was hanging in one corner of the
window, just in the act of quietly turning into a battledore with a red
morocco handle. This struck her as being such a remarkable performance
that she immediately began looking at one thing after another, and
watching the various changes, until she was quite bewildered. "It's
something like a Christmas pantomime," she said to herself; "and it
isn't the slightest use, you know, trying to fancy what anything's going
to be, because everything that happens is so unproblesome. I don't know
where I got _that_ word from," she went on, "but it seems to express
exactly what I mean. F'r instance, there's a little cradle that's just
been turned into a coal-scuttle, and if _that_ isn't unproblesome, well
then--never mind!" (which, as you know, is a ridiculous way little girls
have of finishing their sentences.) By this time she had got around
again to the toy livery-stable, and she was extremely pleased to find
that it had turned into a smart little baronial castle with a turret at
each end, and that the ornamental tea-cup was just changing, with a good
deal of a flourish, into a small rowboat floating in a little stream
that ran by the castle walls. "Come, _that's_ the finest thing yet!"
exclaimed Dorothy, looking at all this with great admiration; "and I
wish a brazen knight would come out with a trumpet and blow a
blast"--you see, she was quite romantic at times--and she was just
admiring the clever way in which the boat was getting rid of the handle
of the t