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But this is a transient phase of farm telephony. The cost of an efficient farm system is now so little not more than two dollars a month, that the present trashy lines are certain sooner or later to go to the junk-heap with the sickle and the flail and all the other cheap and unprofitable things.
As to our desperate run from Lattimore to the place where it came to an end in a junk-heap which had been once an engine, a car reduced to matchwood, a broken trestle, and a chaos of crushed hopes, and of the return to our homes thereafter, no further details need be set forth.
A phan-tom is unreal, while I am the real thing." The King rolled over, sat up and opened his eyes. "Didn't I smash you to pieces?" he asked in trembling tones. "Yes," said Tiktok. "Then you are nothing but a junk-heap, and this form in which you now appear cannot be real." "It is, though," declared Tiktok. "Kal-i-ko picked up my piec-es and put me to-geth-er a-gain.
They always make the bride's home-coming a bower of roses. Complete trust in noble spouse. Lies about marriage. I'm NOT changed. And this town O my God! I can't go through with it. This junk-heap!" Her husband bent over her. "You look like you were in a brown study. Scared? I don't expect you to think Gopher Prairie is a paradise, after St. Paul. I don't expect you to be crazy about it, at first.
A second later the runabout crashed at full speed into the wall of a house on the narrow street's opposite side. The rest was chaos. When a crowd of idlers and a policeman at last righted the wrecked car, two bodies were found huddled inertly amid a junk-heap of splintered glass and shivered wood and twisted metal. The local ambulance carried away one of these limp bodies.
He had obtained two telephones, numbers six and seven, the first five having gone to the junk-heap; and he attached these to a wire in his burglar-alarm office. For two weeks his business friends played with the telephones, like boys with a fascinating toy; then Holmes nailed up a new shelf in his office, and on this shelf placed six box-telephones in a row.
The new, or more properly the older, room was in House 35, a one-story building of the old French type, many of which the Americans revamped upon taking possession of the Isthmian junk-heap, across and a bit down the graveled street. It was a single room, with no roommate to question, which I might decorate and otherwise embellish according to my own personal idiosyncrasies.
"We'll have to keep deck watch through the night, then," proposed Jack Benson. "Very well, Captain. I put you in command," smiled Mr. Farnum. "I can keep a sharp lookout without the title of captain," responded the submarine boy. "But you are going to be in charge of the boat at least until she's sold to the Government or consigned to the junk-heap. So why not be captain from now on?"
The sidewalks had apparently never known the touch of a broom, and the middle of the street looked more like an elongated junk-heap than anything else. Every smell known to the nostrils of man was abroad in the air, and several were floating about waiting modestly to be classified, after which they intended to come to the front and outdo the others if they could. That was Minerva Court!
Mr. Wrenn edged into this junk-heap of nationalities with interested wonder. M. Baraieff rubbed his smooth wicked hands together and bowed a number of times. Confidentially leaning across the counter, Mr. Wrenn murmured: "Say, I read your ad. about wanting cattlemen. I want to make a trip to Europe. How ?" "Yes, yes, yes, yes, Mistaire. I feex you up right away. Ten dollars pleas-s-s-s."
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