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You know, I've thought of one improvement on the Cosmopolis already." "Improvement on the Cosmopolis!" cried Mr. Brewster, gashed in his finest feelings. "Yes. There's one point where the old Cosmop slips up badly, and I'm going to see that it's corrected at my little shack. Customers will be entreated to leave their boots outside their doors at night, and they'll find them cleaned in the morning.
The side hung in the cottage for months, for he did not like to throw it away, and could not think what to do with it, for the dogs could not eat it. At last the old fellow hit upon the notion of using it as leather to mend shoes; so half his customers walked about the world on bacon heels. So far as I could discover, the cottage folk did not now use many herbs.
The city directory readily gave them the address of Wittrock's coalyard, and securing this room a constant watch had been kept on the spotted house. Nothing suspicious had been noted during the day; customers had passed in and out, and Sam had even bought a half ton of coal which was carried to his room.
When I regained my self-possession enough to feel that I appeared at ease and could trust myself to glance at the other customers as I should have done had I been in fact what I was trying to appear, I was relieved to find that not one of them was more than distantly known to me. The idlers on the benches showed no inclination to rise and approach the counter.
These wild dogs were disagreeable customers to meet when riding outside the city, until we learned to avoid the localities where they spent their days, for they would give chase to the horses if they caught sight of them, and the only thing to be done was to remain perfectly quiet until they tired of barking and returned to the dust-hills to resume their search for food.
People rose, rushed for the exits in near-panic. Women screamed. He stopped the orchestra, turned to the audience, held up his hand and shouted: "Come back! Sit down! Sit down all of you! Everything is all right!" The customers meekly resumed their seats. Mr. Koussevitzky swung 'round and continued playing Debussy's brooding, sensuous dreampiece as if nothing had happened.
J sat beside the driver, and S and I in the carriage, all closed but one window. As we drove through Skipton, the little town had a livelier aspect than yesterday when it wore its Good Friday's solemnity; but now its market-place was thronged, principally with butchers, displaying their meat under little movable pent-houses, and their customers.
"Are you all well at home, Monsieur Rigou?" said the illustrious innkeeper. "Pretty well, my good friend," replied Rigou. "Do Plissoud and Bonnebault and Viollet and Amaury still continue good customers?" This question, uttered in a tone of good-natured interest, was by no means one of those empty speeches which superiors are apt to bestow upon inferiors.
But let it be how and which way it will, whether mercer or draper, or what trade you please, the man that stands behind the counter must be all courtesy, civility, and good manners; he must not be affronted, or any way moved, by any manner of usage, whether owing to casualty or design; if he sees himself ill used, he must wink, and not see it he must at least not appear to see it, nor any way show dislike or distaste; if he does, he reproaches not only himself but his shop, and puts an ill name upon the general usuage of customers in it; and it is not to be imagined how, in this gossiping, tea-drinking age, the scandal will run, even among people who have had no knowledge of the person first complaining.
"Follows a pair of ruts, hoping to find civilization at the other end." Rick grinned. "He certainly likes this part of Virginia. There's one thing about peddling Frostola here " "What's that?" "No customers to bother you. It's easy to commune with Nature." "Aye-aye. Does he look like a nature lover to you?" "Now that you mention it, I've seen people who fitted the part better.
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