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Updated: May 10, 2025
They say he put on ten crowns yesterday. What do they call it? The coronation, yes. What's the name of the place? Moscow, yes." The druggist is less confused. "Wouldn't it be funny if the czar wasn't dead. But say, pardner, what would you say if I went over there and told my widow I didn't believe her old man was dead at all? Would she give me the gaff? Would she git mad?"
It happened that the druggist had for a brother a young and aspiring architect, who conceived the idea of putting up a building in keeping with a residence district. The result was a sloping-roofed structure whose shingled second story projected over the first, which was of concrete.
Then it wasn't worth while sending to Neufchatel for the keeper of a cookshop! And for whom? For cowherds! tatterdemalions!" The druggist was passing. He had on a frock-coat, nankeen trousers, beaver shoes, and, for a wonder, a hat with a low crown. "Your servant! Excuse me, I am in a hurry." And as the fat widow asked where he was going
The next moment his own horses dash around the corner into State street, driverless and running away. A lady's head protrudes from the window. Yes, it is Esther! The druggist grasps his long pole lightly. He takes the middle of the street. He holds his pole like a fence before the team. "Whoa, Pete! Whoa, Coley!" he cries. The horses believe they must turn. They lose momentum. They shy.
"And he's a hardworkin' little feller, too," Massey added. "Not a thing wrong with Benny but his back. That is crooked; but he's as straight as a string." "How's his fambly?" asked Uncle Jason. "Ain't got none but a wife. A decent, hard-working woman," proclaimed the druggist. "No children. Her brother boards with 'em. That's all." "Well, sir!" said Uncle Jason, oracularly.
Finally," he added, suddenly assuming a mystic tone of voice while he rolled a pinch of snuff between his fingers, "if the Church has condemned the theatre, she must be right; we must submit to her decrees." "Why," asked the druggist, "should she excommunicate actors? For formerly they openly took part in religious ceremonies.
"When the boy had worked only a little while, he went back to the druggist and said, 'Those rusty old nails are no good. Why don't you let me throw them all away? I don't like this kind of job, anyway. "'All right, said the druggist; and he paid Joe for what he had done, and let him go.
"Oh," said Frederick, "I have a wild longing for solitude. I should prefer to spend the very first night beneath my own roof far, far from the madding crowd of Meriden." "Very well," responded Schmidt, "the man that owns the house is a good friend of mine, a druggist. His name is Lamping, a pleasant Dutchman.
"Then that stuff came from that druggist beyond a doubt." "So I figure it. But there is no druggist named Schlemp here," went on Tom, "and the druggist here doesn't know of such a fellow." "I know what we can do," cried Dick. "Don't you remember, Dan Baxter said he had worked for a wholesale drug house? We can telegraph and ask him if he knows of this Schlemp."
The druggist tried to force Johnnie into a chair. "Madman!" he panted. "I tell you our friends have been betrayed; they are retreating. Go back to your hotel quickly." For the first time during their acquaintance Manin heard the good- natured American curse; O'Reilly's blue eyes were blazing; he had let go of himself completely. "I'm going!" he cried, hoarsely.
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