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The tanner was a disgruntled man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn't get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and speech. Said he: "Sho, that's not the point! That could happen twice in a hundred years but not the other thing. Billson. "I did!" Wilson. "I did!" Then each accused the other of pilfering. The Chair. "Order!
“Twiddel to Billson,” he said to himself. “This may possibly be worth looking at.” It was dated more than a month back from the town of Fogelschloss. “Dear Tom,” it ran, “we are having an A 1 time. Old Welsh is in splendid form, doing the part to perfection. He has never given himself away yet, not even when drunk, which, I am sorry to say, he has been too often.
Dr Billson had departed “on his holiday,” he was informed, and would not return for three weeks. So Mr Bunker was driven back to his window and the Baron’s cigars. It was the evening of his fourth day in Mrs Gabbon’s rooms. He had finished a modest dinner and was dealing himself hands at piquet with an old pack of cards, when he heard the rattle of a cab coming up the street.
If anything happens that it comes too late, I want you, when you find that I have disappeared, even if my disappearance is only a temporary matter, to let them know in London you know how at once." The manager nodded. "I will do so," he promised. "I trust, however," he went on, "that you are exaggerating the danger. Mr. Billson lived here for many years without any trouble."
The house submerged him in tides of approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed to say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and kept shouting: "But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!"
It's the only good thing I have to say for Muskegon Commercial College, that we were all, even the small fry, deeply mortified to be posted as defaulters; and the collapse of a merchant prince like Billson, who had ridden pretty high in his days of prosperity, was, of course, particularly hard to bear.
Billson and me orjanized a strollin' dramatic company, & we played The Drunkard, or the Falling Saved, with a real drunkard. The play didn't take particlarly, and says Billson to me, Let's giv 'em some immoral dramy. We had a large troop onto our hands, consisting of eight tragedians and a bass drum, but I says, No, Billson; and then says I, Billson, you hain't got a well-balanced mind.
I inquired, as innocent as a lamb. He looked daggers at me. "See that sandy-haired man in glasses?" he asked, as if to change the subject. "That's Billson, our most prominent undergraduate. We build confidently on Billson's future. You could not do better, Dodd, than follow Billson."
A frowsy little servant opened the door. “Is Dr Twiddel at home?” he asked. “Dr Twiddel’s abroad, sir,” said the maid. “No one in at all, then?” “Dr Billson sees ’is patients, sir—w’en there his any.” “When do you expect Dr Billson?” “In about an hour, sir, ’e usually comes hin.” “Excellent!” thought Mr Bunker. Aloud he said, “Well, I’m a patient. I’ll come in and wait.”
You see I'm sassy, friend Wales, hittin' all sides; but no offense is ment. You know I ain't a politician, and never was. I vote for Mr. Union that's the only candidate I've got. I claim, howsever, to have a well-balanced mind; tho' my idees of a well-balanced mind differs from the idees of a partner I once had, whose name it was Billson.
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