United States or Greenland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Thim is me orders, t'allow ixamination be th' veterinary, an' if 't w'u'd be anny comfort t' ye I will draw up a chair so ye can look all ye want to." The veterinary raised his sad eyes to Flannery's face and let them rest there a moment. "Much obliged," he said, but he did not look at the cat again. He went back to his headquarters.
But the rest of the account Flannery's words came back to him. The director had been right. His prediction was already coming true, after only three days unless he had either had prior knowledge or juggled things to make it come true! Duke considered it, but he could see no way Flannery could either learn or act in advance of the arrival of the ship on Earth.
"An' I tell ye," said Flannery, holding the package away from him with a firm hand, "that rules is rules, and gineral orders is worse than rules, an' thim spellin's can't go." Mr. Warold flushed. He put his hand opposite to Flannery's hand on the package and pushed with an equal firmness. "I offer this package for shipment," he said with a trace of anger beginning to show in his voice.
She was in good health and hoped he was the same, though many were sick at the Home, and Mrs. Poor Miss Flannery's cough was bad, and she wouldn't be long here, either; but, as the good Mother says, we are blessed in having a holy place where we can die in peace and quiet. And Aunt Winnie's own leg was bad still, but she thanked God she could get around a bit and help the others.
"I think she's over helpin' nurse the Widder Flannery's sick kids this afternoon. They've got chicken pox. Might go over there and see her if you're in a rush." "We didn't say we wanted to borrow money," Bill retorted to the jocular latter part of the bartender's speech. "What time will she be here?" "About ten, I guess," was the more courteous reply.
"Hold on," said the inspector, putting his hand on Flannery's arm. "You don't go yet. I 'll have a look at your cash and your accounts first. What you say about that cat may be true enough, but we have got to have proof of it. That was a valuable cat, that was. It was an Angora cat, a real Angora cat. You've got to produce that cat before we are through with you."
The four-thirty-two train had just pulled in, and Timmy had gone across to meet it with his hand-truck, and now he returned. He came lazily, pulling the cart behind him with one hand. He didn't seem to care whether he ever got back to the office. Flannery's quick blood rebelled. "Is that all th' faster ye can go?" he shouted. "Make haste! Make haste!
It was quiet in the underground office of the director, except for the faint sound of Flannery's arms sliding across each other in an unconscious massaging motion. He caught himself at it, and leaned back, his tired facial muscles twitching into a faint smile. Strange things happened to a man when he grew old.
Duplicate copies of the bill of lading, manifest, Flannery's receipt for the package and several other pertinent papers were pinned to the letter, and they were passed to the head of the Tariff Department. The head of the Tariff Department put his feet on his desk and yawned. He looked through the papers carelessly. "Miss Kane," he said to his stenographer, "take this letter.
Timmy entered the office, and as he passed the box he sniffed the air in a manner that at once roused Flannery's temper. "Sthop that!" he shouted. "I'll have none av yer foolin' t'-day. What fer are ye puckerin' up yer nose at th' cat fer? There's nawthin' th' matther with th' cat. 'Tis as sound as a shillin', an' there 's no call fer ye t' be sniffin' 'round, Timmy, me lad!
Word Of The Day