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Updated: May 9, 2025
But this intelligent Me, who steps forward as the senior partner in our dual personality, turns out to be a terrible bungler. He misses those glancing hits which the hard-featured young professional person calls "carroms," and insists on pocketing his own ball instead of the other one.
"Just like all young fellers gettin' hosstyle right away if you don't fall in with their plans. Now, Sonny, you keep your temper, and watch me play cushion carroms with our friend there." "Meaning how?" "You see that block of stone just this side of him with the square face towards us? Well, he's only covered in front, and I'm a-going to shoot against that face and ketch him on the glance."
He called me "my boy," although I was twenty-five, but he had known me as a young child. I started the game and made a few carroms. I missed some others, but as the thought of Mademoiselle Pearl kept returning to my mind, I suddenly asked: "By the way, Monsieur Chantal, is Mademoiselle Pearl a relative of yours?" Greatly surprised, he stopped playing and looked at me: "What! Don't you know?
Presently the Patriarch asked again, "Why was M. Berger authorized to go to the dances given to the Prince?" The Class had to give up this, and he answered it himself: "Because every one of his carroms was a tick-it to the ball." "Who collects the money to defray the expenses of the last campaign in Italy?" asked the Patriarch. Here again the Class failed.
He called me "my boy," although I was twenty-five, but he had known me as a young child. I started the game and made a few carroms. I missed some others, but as the thought of Mademoiselle Pearl kept returning to my mind, I suddenly asked: "By the way, Monsieur Chantal, is Mademoiselle Pearl a relative of yours?" Greatly surprised, he stopped playing and looked at me: "What! Don't you know?
Presently the Patriarch asked again: "Why was M. Berger authorized to go to the dances given to the Prince?" The Class had to give up this, and he answered it himself: "Because every one of his carroms was a tick-it to the ball." "Who collects the money to defray the expenses of the last campaign in Italy?" asked the Patriarch. Here again the Class failed.
But this intelligent Me, who steps forward as the senior partner in our dual personality, turns out to be a terrible bungler. He misses those glancing hits which the hard-featured young professional person calls "carroms," and insists on pocketing his own ball instead of the other one.
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