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"I knew you'd come." "Of course I came, the instant Clifford cabled me that these idiots had arrested you. By God! They'll sweat for this. How are you anyhow, Kirk? Dammit, you need a shave! Wouldn't they give you a razor? Hey! Clifford, Colonel Jolson, come here! These scoundrels wouldn't give him a shave."
Some time later he found himself out in the open sunlight a free man once more, with Darwin K. Anthony and Runnels on either side of him. But before he had gone a block, he halted suddenly, saying: "Williams! I'd forgotten him and his warrant." "He's fixed," Runnels explained. "While your father and Mrs. Cortlandt and Colonel Jolson were getting you out of jail, Clifford and I told him the truth.
It is very difficult to sing them well. Elsie Janis, a very clever mimic, a delightful dancer, and perhaps the most deservedly popular artist on our music hall stage, is not a good interpreter of popular songs. She cannot be compared in this respect with Bert Williams, Blanche Ring, Stella Mayhew, Al Jolson, May Irwin, Ethel Levey, Nora Bayes, Fannie Brice, or Marie Cahill.
He took off his hat and produced a placard. He straightened it and stuck it into a crack in a fence-rail. Its legend was "Help Yourself." "You're giving them clothes away, are you, Judge Peterson?" "I am leaving them here for any one who chooses to take them. Do you want first pick, Jolson?" "Not me! I ain't taking charity hand-me-downs from any man, Judge.
Edith Cortlandt's interview with the rival candidates for the Panamanian Presidency formed but a part of her plan. She next held a long conversation with Colonel Jolson, to the end that on Friday morning Runnels heard a rumor that threw him into the greatest consternation.
I missed nearly all of them, except one as to whether I thought Al Jolson or Frank Tinney was the higher artist, and even that one was asked by an American who is wasting himself on the London Press. I don't want to speak in anger. But I say it frankly, the atmosphere of these young men is not healthy, and I felt that I didn't want to see them any more.
Ramon Alfarez was beside her, and the two were chatting with an appearance of intimacy that made him furious. Close at hand stood Garavel, deep in conversation with Colonel Jolson. "Ah, Ramon, I wish you to meet Mr. Anthony," said Gertrudis. "So! You have met before?" "In Colon," Kirk explained, while Alfarez scorched him with his eyes. "Mr. Alfarez was very hospitable to me."
So, let any man help himself when no one is looking." "I'll take the alarm-clock, if you say so," volunteered Jolson. "It'll help to rout me out of bed at milking-time." "No, you cannot have the clock, Jolson. I have tinkered it so that it will purr a little every half-hour. It will call attention to the clothes.
"When will you learn ?" She checked her crisp words at the flush that leaped to his cheeks. "I beg your pardon, Stephen. Please do as Colonel Jolson has done and trust me to manage this affair." He bowed and left her, saying, "I will have a coach waiting at the door."
Ostensibly to the hotel lobby, they were casual as, "My mulligatawny soup was cold tonight" or "Have you heard the new one that Al Jolson pulls at the Winter Garden?" But actually, the roar was high in Mrs. Samstag's ears and he could feel the plethoric red rushing in flashes over his body. "Marry me, Carrie," he said, as if to prove that his stiff lips could repeat their incredible feat.
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