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One billboard would have saved me; the admonitions that "work is man's duty to his nation," that my country needed me as much in peace as in war, would have scattered the insidious spell of this street and sent me back to the typewriter with at least a story of some waiter in a loop beanery who was once a reigning prince of Patagonia.
Will you want to?" "Do you suppose for one second I'd give up my feeling of free air? If you don't come and get me, I'll call on you and make you come!" "Warn you I'll probably be living over some beanery." "Probably. With dirty steps leading up to it. I'll sweep the steps. I'll cook supper for you. I can do things, can't I! I did manage Dlorus, didn't I!"
Annie lifted her hands in a little gesture of despair. "I'm dead sick of this game. What's there in it? I live straight and eat in a beanery. No lobster palaces in mine. Look at me cheap duds. And Tim gives me the over like I was a street cat. What sort of a chance did I ever have, with toughs and gunmen for me friends?" "You've got yore chance now, Annie.
She's no beanery mistress, like you're used to. She really is a lady." "How blind you are, cruel friend. You do not even see that whatever my vices may be, my social standing " "Oh shut up! Can't you see I'm trying to be kind to you? Have I simply got to beat you up before you begin to suspect you aren't welcome? Your social standing isn't even in the telephone book.
His glance went back to the tiny island and to his double row of tracks. He looked at the man. "Jack, dear, you might go help the gentleman get some brush," the lady suggested sweetly. "This ain't my act," Jack dear objected. "I just about broke my spine trying to heave the car outa the mud when we first stuck. Say, I wish there was a beanery of some kind in walking distance.
That was the same evening I took Clara J. to the St. Regis to dinner. Did I ever tell you about it, Bunch? Well, say, it may help you to forget your troubles. It's a swell joint, all right, O.K., is the St. Regis, but hereafter me for the beanery thing with the high stool and the low prices. "In the St.
We slept on hammocks that we hung to hooks in the wall; and took our meals at the Hotel Ingles, a beanery run on the American plan by a German proprietor with Chinese cooking served a la Kansas City lunch counter. "It seems that O'Connor really did have some sort of system planned out beforehand.
"Oh, my stummick is jest akein' For a little bite of bacon, A slice of bread, a little mug of brew. I'm tired of seein' scenery, Jest lead me to a beanery, Where there's something more than only air to chew." "The last line sounds like a sneeze," said Winthrop, laughing. "Speakin' of sneeze," said Overland, "makes me think you ain't coughed so much lately, Billy."
He was interrupted by a knock at the door. "A letter for you, Mr. Campbell," said the servant. Taking it from her he recognized the well-known writing of his beloved. He put the letter in his pocket, and, grabbing his hat, started down the stairs. "I 'm too late for breakfast here," he exclaimed; "I 'll go next door to the 'beanery' and get a roll and a cup of coffee.
I 've got to play 'em close to my vest now," he sighed. "A dime is nothing when you 've got it, but it 's bigger than a mountain when you have n't; and it won 't be long before I have n't at this rate." Seated on a little round stool at the corner in the "beanery," he gave his order, and then opened and commenced to read his letter.
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