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Updated: June 2, 2025
A spokesman for the lodgers found his voice. "Well, we ain't a-goin' to stay in no doggone house with a chink shoved in fer a cook." Van nodded: "Have you ever tried Algy's cooking?" "No, we ain't! And we ain't a-goin' to, neither!" The others murmured their assent. "You're a fine discriminating cluster of bifurcated, viviparous idiots," said Van in visibly disturbing scorn.
He not only feared for the fate of his affairs of the heart, but perhaps even more for what she might have done with respect to the money she had asked him to return, a very small proportion of which he was now prepared to repay. Meantime, Beth, her brother, and Pratt had gratified their most crying needs on Algy's cooking, much to that worthy Celestial's delight.
Well, you don't believe me. Ask his mother ask his mother. She's ninety-five. Old lady of ninety-five " Argyle even laughed himself at his own preposterousness. "And then Algy Algy's not a fool, you know. Oh, he can be most entertaining, most witty, and amusing. But he's out of place here. He should be in Kensington, dandling round the ladies' drawing rooms and making his mots.
Among the throng the heaviest punter is a fat lady with diamond earrings. Does the reader recognize her? It is little Algy's mother. Her husband is dead, leaving her the whole of his colossal fortune, and, having developed a taste for gambling, she is now engaged in "doing it in on the ponies". She is one of the biggest bettors in the game. When women take to betting they are worse than men.
Algy's words last night seem to have confirmed and given a solider reality to my worst fears. He has walked to the window and is looking out. "Are you nervous?" say I, with a slightly sarcastic smile. He does not appear to notice the sarcasm. "Yes," he says, "that is just what I am. He is a mad sort of fellow, and a coach is not a thing to play tricks with!" "No," say I, indifferently.
He already had nearly everything a child could want; but one morning a bright inspiration struck Algy's father. Algy should have a pony. With Mr. Smythers to think was to act. He was not a man who believed in allowing grass to grow under his feet. His motto was, "Up and be doing somebody." So he put an advertisement in the paper that same day. "Wanted, a boy's pony.
I don't expect you to do the same. I'm up in London now to raise money to buy the farm Queen's Anne's Farm; it's advertized for sale, I see. Fleeting won't sell it to me privately, because my name's Blancove, and I'm the father of my son, and he fancies Algy's the man.
I take half a dozen hurried turns along the floor, and try to think of all our most depressing family themes father; Algy's college-bills; Tou Tou's shrunk face and thin legs; nothing will do. When I stop before the glass and consult it, that hysterical smile is there still.
I don't expect you to do the same. I'm up in London now to raise money to buy the farm Queen's Anne's Farm; it's advertized for sale, I see. Fleeting won't sell it to me privately, because my name's Blancove, and I'm the father of my son, and he fancies Algy's the man.
As soon as they could they left the table, and Tobey, observing their uneasiness in spite of his damaged and nearly useless optics, decided to send them to another room where they could pass the afternoon without further annoyance. Stubby escorted the party and ushered them into a good sized room which he said was "Algy's study," although no one ever studied there.
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