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Updated: June 25, 2025


"That would make the members of the Cabinet feel uncomfortable," she said. "A Monarch? Alfred; beg pardon, he's an A. Richard III., Peter the Great, Louis XI., Nero?" "No," said Mrs. Bergmann. "I can't have a Royalty. It would make it too stiff." "I have it," said Mr. Satan, "a highwayman: Dick Turpin; or a housebreaker: Jack Sheppard or Charles Peace?" "Oh! no," said Mrs.

I shall accept your kind permission to get back to my work now, Mrs. Bergmann. Everything is ready for Leonore, because she was to leave for the hospital very shortly." With these words she went out. The sick child sat completely dressed on a bed in the corner of the room, half reclining on the pillows. Mrs.

Bergmann had quite made up her mind that she had been cheated, and there was only one thing for which she consoled herself, and that was that she had not waited for luncheon but had gone down immediately, since so far all her guests had kept up a continuous stream of conversation, which had every now and then become general, though they still every now and then glanced at the empty chair and wondered what the coming attraction was going to be.

"German feeling was further embittered against her by the Morell Mackenzie incident, and to this day controversy rages round the famous English surgeon's name. The controversy is as to whether or not Morell Mackenzie honestly believed what he said when he diagnosed the Emperor's illness as non-cancerous in opposition to the opinion of distinguished German doctors like Professor Bergmann.

Timorously ignoring the signal she got herself into a little low chair in the shadow of the half-closed swing door and was spreading out her wool-work on her knee when the Vorspielen began. Emma Bergmann was playing. The single notes of the opening motif of Chopin's Fifteenth Nocturne fell pensively into the waiting room. Miriam, her fatigue forgotten, slid to a featureless freedom.

"We should probably find their jokes dull now," said Mrs. Bergmann, thoughtfully. "Miscellaneous?" inquired Mr.

One was Sigmund Bergmann, for a time partner with Edison in his lighting developments in the United States, and now head and principal owner of electrical works in Berlin employing ten thousand men. The next man adjacent was John Kruesi, afterward engineer of the great General Electric Works at Schenectady.

"One-thirty," said Mrs. Bergmann. "He may be a few minutes late," answered Mr. Satan. "Good afternoon, madam," and he bowed and withdrew. Mrs. Bergmann chuckled to herself when she was alone. "I have done him," she thought to herself, "because ten million years in eternity is nothing.

Edison has always had an amused admiration for Bergmann, and his "social side" is often made evident by his love of telling stories about those days of struggle. Some of the stories were told for this volume. "Bergmann came to work for me as a boy," says Edison. "He started in on stock-quotation printers.

I had gotten them immune to it. Bergmann had won all the money, and when the porter came in and said 'Chicago, Bergmann jumped up and said: 'What! Chicago! I thought it was only Philadelphia!"

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