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Then he struck it again and caved in the crown, but it still remained on Mix's head. Then he picked up a volume of Brown On Evidence, and mashed the crown in flat. Then Mix sprang at him; and shaking his fist under the nose of Jones, he shrieked, "You miserable scullion, I've half a notion to kill you! If that jackass on the bench had any sense, he could see that the hat is glued fast.
Miss Mirabelle Starkweather lifted up her cup of tea, and with the little finger of her right hand stiffly extended to Mr. Mix's good health. Mr. Mix, sitting upright in a gilded chair which was three sizes too small for him, bowed with a courtliness which belonged to the same historical period as the chair, and also drank. Over the rim of his cup, his eyes met Mirabelle's.
Neglecting the sheep, he leaped from bed and began to bombard Mix's new dog with boots, soap-cups and every loose object he could lay his hands on. He hit the animal at last with a plaster bust of Daniel Webster, and induced the dog to retreat to the stable and think about home in silence.
Next twenty Sundays for four hundred and seventy-five beanos, cash in advance. Then it turns up that Standish's office was actin' for Devereux." The bloom of apoplexy rose to Mr. Mix's cheeks. "You mean he do you know if he leased more theatres than this one? Did he?" "Did he! He signed up the whole damn Exhibitors' Association.
In years the Mayor was no chicken, but in politics he had hardly chipped his shell, so that he was still susceptible to delegations, and sets of resolutions, and references to his solemn oath of office. Furthermore, he had been secretly awed by Mr. Mix's eloquence; for Mr.
This time he reached two hundred and forty, and would probably have got to sleep before the three hundredth sheep jumped, had not Mix's new dog, in the next yard, suddenly become home-sick and begun to express his feelings in a series of prolonged and exasperating howls. Mr. Fogg was indignant.
Mix's, a-settin' on my doorstep, an' I dessay we sha'n't quarrel over a 'undud p'un' or two," sez I. An' then I bust out a-larfin' agin I shall die a-larfin'. And then she added suddenly in the same tone of sadness, 'if I don't die a-cryin'.
Mix's place in the community when it was shown as inevitably it would be shown that he had acted merely as a toy balloon, inflated by Mirabelle's vain expectations. "Humph!" she said at length, and her voice was a hoarse, thin whisper. "Well you just wait 'till I get hold of him!" The door had closed behind her: the door had been closed behind Mr.
Henry was reminded of what Judge Barklay had twice expressed, and for a casual experiment, he tried to plumb the depths of Mr. Mix's interest. "Oh, with a few new schemes I've got, I guess I'll clean up eleven or twelve thousand this year." Mr. Mix shook his head. "As much as that?" Henry inquired of himself why, to accompany a question which was apparently one of mere rhetorical purport, Mr.
Didn't know you had that much acid in your system." "Author? Author?" From the table at his side, the man picked up three pamphlets. One was entitled The Model Statute, the second was Local Problems, and the third was Reform and Regeneration. To each of the three, Mr. Mix's name was signed. He took them up, and scrutinized them closely. "Why, what's so remarkable about these?"
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