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"His ambition, I take it, does not go beyond a desire to be Parliamentary flunkey to a big man, with wages, if possible, but without, if the wages are impossible." "And yours?" "Oh, as to mine; there are some things, Alice, that a man does not tell to any one." "Are there? They must be very terrible things."
A tall flunkey took the card, closed the door, and Mrs. Oswald Carey had to wait in the cab a full minute. Then the door opened, and down the wide steps of the porch hobbled Mr. Bugbee, with gouty, tender feet, the top of his bald head shining under the lamp.
The boss of the outfit came in leisurely after the rush. He brought a guest with him and they sat down at the end of the table. "Beans!" demanded a line man, his mouth full. "Headed for you!" promised the flunkey. The guest of the boss was a big rangy fellow in the early forties. Bob heard the boss call him "Jake," and later "Houck."
You'll want a mechanician to keep your motor in shape. I can make a motor, gimme the tools. You want somebody that knows the game to kinda manage things. You're Skyrider Johnny, same as the boys at the ranch calls yuh. Yon gotta have a flunkey, ain't yuh? I'm willin' to be it. I'll change my name, so nobody needs to know it's Bland Halliday.
Indeed, it was such a thundering poor success that it raised wondering scowls all along the line, and a gorgeous flunkey at the tail end of it raised his whip; but I jumped in time and was under it when it fell; and under cover of the volley of coarse laughter which followed, I spoke up sharply and warned the king to take no notice.
Mari d'elle coughs and, without looking at his wife, takes off his braces. "If you don't go away, you insolent creature, I shall go," the singer goes on, stamping her bare foot, and looking at him with flashing eyes. "I shall go! Do you hear, insolent . . . worthless wretch, flunkey, out you go!" "You might have some shame before outsiders," mutters her husband . . . .
The Reader went on to relate how this happened, with ludicrous accuracy, upon the abrupt opening of the door, around the steps of which they were gathered a flunkey nearly putting his foot in the tripe, with this indignant apostrophe, "Out of the vays, here, will you? You must always go and be a settin' on our steps, must you?
"I don't believe there is anything good in the flunkey line that money won't buy. I have always found I could have anything I wanted, if I saw fit to pay its price. Money, no matter what simpletons preach, money, my dear, is"
A magnificent flunkey, in a gorgeous suit of livery, standing, with left hand on hip, right hand in breast, side by side with a very small and saucy "boy in buttons," upon whom he looks down superciliously. Boy with both hands in trouser pockets and gazing up at his companion with an expression of impertinent familiarity.
The little letter basket he placed on the table at Jones' left elbow. Then he withdrew, but not without having spoken a couple of murmured words of correction to the flunkey near the sideboard, who had omitted, no doubt, some point in the mysterious ritual of which he was an acolyte. Jones glanced at the topmost letter. THE EARL OF ROCHESTER, 10A, Carlton House Terrace, London, S. W.
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