Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 23, 2025
Magee," he said seriously, "I learn from Kendrick that you have in your possession a certain package of money that has been much buffeted about here at Baldpate Inn. Now I suggest no, I demand " "Pardon me, Professor," Mr. Magee interrupted. "I have something to suggest even to demand. It is that you, and every one else present, select a chair and sit down.
He placed the basket on the floor; it appeared to be filled with bromidic groceries, such as the most subdued householder carries home. "Which fellow?" asked Mr. Magee. "The fellow Elijah Quimby told me about," explained he of the long brown locks. "The fellow that's come up to Baldpate Inn to be alone with his thoughts." "You're one of the villagers, I take it," guessed Mr. Magee.
"Unless just a minute, this may concern you on my word, there's another new face at Baldpate." He stood up, and in the light of the fire met Hayden. Now he saw that the face of the latest comer was scheming and weak, and that under a small blond mustache a very cruel mouth sought to hide. The stranger gazed at Magee with an annoyance plainly marked. "A friend of mine Mr. er Downs, Mr.
Inside, before the office fire, Miss Thornhill read a magazine in the indolent fashion so much affected at Baldpate Inn during the heated term; while the mayor of Reuton chatted amiably with the ponderously coy Mrs. Norton. Into this circle burst the envoys to the hermitage, flushed, energetic, snowflaked. "Hail to the chef who in triumph advances!" cried Mr. Magee.
The cast-off lover of Arabella, the fleeing artist, or the thief of portraits from a New York millionaire's home? Really, it doesn't matter. We shift our stories from time to time. As the first of the Baldpate hermits, however, it is my duty to welcome you, which I hereby do." The mayor pointed dramatically to the stair. "I give you fifteen minutes," he roared, "to pack up and get out.
Instead it clung with grim determination to the side of Baldpate, about half-way up, much as a city man clings to the running board of an open street-car. This was the comparison Mr. Magee made, and even as he made it he knew that atmospheric conditions rendered it questionable. For an open street-car suggests summer and the ball park; Baldpate Inn, as it shouldered darkly into Mr.
But first he paused to give his own version of the word under discussion. "Strange," he remarked, "that none of you gets the picture I do. Romance it is here at your feet in Baldpate Inn. A man climbs the mountain to be alone with his thoughts, to forget the melodrama of life, to get away from the swift action of the world, and meditate. He is alone for very near an hour.
So the strange game that was being played at Baldpate Inn followed the example of good digestion and waited on appetite. What Mr. Magee flippantly termed his dinner party was seated at last, and there began a meal destined to linger long in the memories of those who partook if it. Puzzled beyond words, the host took stock of his guests.
"Well, seems I've sort of lost the habit of being surprised now. I tell you, Lou, we're breaking into the orchid division up here." While Mr. Magee shaved in ice-cold water, another black mark against the Hermit of Baldpate he turned over in his mind the events of the night before.
He felt his cheeks burn with excitement like a sweet girl graduate's the cheeks of a man who had always prided himself he was the unmoved cynic in any situation. With no thought for Mr. Bland, bound in his uneasy chair, Mr. Magee hurried up the broad staircase of Baldpate. Now came the most gorgeous scene of all. A fair-haired lady; a knight she had sent forth to battle; the knight returned.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking