United States or Malaysia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Almost everything marked, spotted: property, real and personal; lands, lots, improvements; bonds, stocks, mortgages " "Everything, in short, but franchises?" "Franchises, yes. Nothing left but to turn one's attention to the public utilities " "And to hope that legislation may lag as far behind and as long behind as possible." "Precisely," said Whyland. "Meanwhile, we string our wires "
Abner came against him at one of the sessions of the Tax Commission, a body that was hoping almost against hope to introduce some measure of reason and justice into the collection of the public funds. "Huh! I shouldn't expect much from him!" commented Abner, as Whyland began to speak. Whyland was a genial, gentlemanly fellow of thirty-eight or forty.
Clubs were the places where the profligate children of Privilege drank improper drinks and told improper stories and kept improper hours. Abner, who was perfectly pure in word, thought and deed and always in bed betimes, shrank from a club as from a lazaret. "Thank you," he responded bleakly; "but I am very busy." "Another time, then," said Whyland, with unimpaired kindliness.
Its white-capped waves knocked viciously against the trembling sea-wall, and their spray, flying across the drenched bed of the Drive, stung on the window-panes as if to say, in every drop, "It is we, we who have brought you to this!" Medora sent her brother next morning to make inquiries, and at noon she came herself. "The nurse will be here in an hour or two," said Edith Whyland.
He thought of his realty interests in town, as they lay exposed to spoliation, to confiscation. "I am afraid I shall not be a reformer," he said, in discouragement. Abner shook a condemnatory head in full corroboration. And Whyland, who may have been looking for a prop to wavering principles, shook his own head too. "Don't work so hard at it," said Medora, laying her violin on top of the pianola.
"Yes," replied Medora deliberately; "I'm dancing with Mr. Joyce." She handed Edith her card. Abner looked across to her with a startled, puzzled expression. "So you are," said Mrs. Whyland. "J-o-y-c-e," she read, and handed the card back. "I don't care for the redowa, anyway," Medora explained; "and I didn't want to dance with the man that was moving along in my direction to ask me.
Abner, then, went on speaking from the platform or distributing pamphlets, his own and others', at the door, and remained unconscious that Mrs. Palmer Pence was desirous of knowing him, that Leverett Whyland would have been interested in meeting him, and that Adrian Bond, whose work he knew without liking it, would have been glad to make him acquainted with their fellow authors.
We girls about made up our minds that we would get together a little fund and see if we couldn't do some missionary work in that neighbourhood hire some real good artists" Abner winced at this hideous perversion of the word "hire some real good artists to go over there and let those poor creatures see what a first-class show was like; and Mr. Whyland promised to contribute " "Stop!" said Abner.
He began to cast about for means to break up this calamitous situation. He welcomed the return of Leverett Whyland with his wife. "Well, Pence," said Whyland, "how has the Amalgamated Association of Non-Dancers been doing?" "Pence," Whyland had said. Yes, this was the Trust man, after all. "First-rate," returned the other briefly, rising to go.
"I I think I'd rather not," said Abner, tendering an apologetic hand. He wrote to Medora endless plaints about the discomforts of country hotels; and she, remembering how he had once luxuriated in these very crudities he had called them authentic, characteristic, and other long words ending in tic smiled broadly. It seemed as if that fortnight in the Whyland house had finally done for him.
Word Of The Day