Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: September 20, 2025
Fiddler had been the Hooper family physician years ago and that was all there was to be said. He WOULD have him. So poor Tom Bingle sent for the great man, who came and prescribed for his old friend and client. After a week the Bingles began to count the number of visits, and grew lean and gaunt-faced over the prospect ahead of them.
He still refused to give an inch. And so the Society, satisfied that it had achieved a victory, set about to find fathers and mothers for the nine Bingles, and Mr. Bingle sat down to wait for the final struggle that was to come, or, more properly speaking, for the nine separate struggles that lay ahead of him. The children were told what they might expect in the near future, and Mr.
Hope you will excuse me, Mrs. Bingle. I'm a bit upset yes, considerably upset over something that has come up in the er that is to say, quite recently. I I want your husband's advice on on a matter of grave importance." The Bingles stared at him for a moment in speechless concern. Then Mr. Bingle managed to give expression to the fear that entered his heart as Force concluded his amazing remarks.
She couldn't forget how angry she was before she realised that his judgment was better than hers. As a matter of fact, she couldn't help being a perfectly normal woman: she enjoyed misery. It must be recorded that she imposed upon the Bingles in one respect: she did not mention the fact that she was or had been an actress.
I thought they might have some little feeling for me, and " He did not finish the sentence, and as the Bingles took that instant to blow their noses and to look so intently at the electric chandelier that their eyes smarted, it was perhaps just as well that he ended his ruminations when he did.
Bingle had applied with earnest though artless disregard for subsequent odours; packages done up in white and tied with red ribbon, neatly double-bowed, formed a significant centrepiece for the ornate mahogany library table and one who did not know the Bingles would have looked about in quest of small fry with popping, covetous eyes and sleekly brushed hair.
The alluring scent of gaudily painted toys pervaded the Christmas atmosphere, quite offsetting the hint of steam from more fortunate depths, and one could sniff the odour of freshly buttered pop-corn. All these signs spoke of children and the proximity of Kris Kringle, and yet there were no little Bingles, nor had there ever been so much as one! Mr. and Mrs. Bingle were childless.
'Ere comes the lidy governess!" He was peering into the hall, the corners of his mouth drawn down in the most approved English fashion. Whatever may have been Mr. Bingle's taste in the selection of rugs and furniture, he could be charged with no lack of it in his choice of a governess for the young Bingles. Miss Fairweather was as pretty as a picture.
Force knew nothing whatever about the suspected lobster and being in considerable doubt as to just how much of Miss Glenn's story the Bingles had learned, very naturally believed that the good lady was concerned about Mrs. Force's peace of mind rather than her state of health. He grew perfectly scarlet and mumbled something about his wife sleeping like a log, and then hastily followed Mr.
"And now, M'sieur, when may I come to take little Napoleon home to his mother?" Thus it came about that Napoleon was the first to go. Amid great pomp and ceremony, he departed from the home of the many Bingles on a bright, clear day in December, shortly after banking hours, attended by his own mother and father. Christmas was drawing near.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking