Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 17, 2025
Shmendrik, formerly the widow Finkelstein, ever received these dainties, she found her good man had purchased fish artificially inflated with air, and fowls fattened with brown paper. Hearty Sam Abrahams, the bass chorister, whose genial countenance spread sunshine for yards around, stopped Esther and gave her a penny.
But when it comes to kidding, how about this report that you stole the black marble steps off the post-office and sold 'em for high-grade coal!" In delight Babbitt patted Gunch's back, stroked his arm. "That's all right, but what I want to know is: who's the real-estate shark that bought that coal for his apartment-houses?" "I guess that'll hold you for a while, George!" said Finkelstein.
Right to the end of the street he dragged her, pursued by a hooting crowd. Then he stopped, worn out. "Will you give me that sixpence, you Ganef!" "No, I haven't got it. You'd better go back to your shop, else you'll suffer from worse thieves." It was true. Widow Finkelstein smote her wig in horror and hurried back to purvey treacle.
Widow Finkelstein stood up for her rights, and even hung on to the barrow for them. There was a short, sharp argument, a simultaneous jabbering, as of a pair of monkeys. Shosshi Shmendrik's pimply face worked with excited expostulation, Widow Finkelstein's cushion-like countenance was agitated by waves of righteous indignation.
He was impatient as the jest elaborately rolled on to its denouement. "Of course he may have been meeting a girl," they said, and "No, I think he was waiting for his old roommate, Sir Jerusalem Doak." He exploded, "Oh, spring it, spring it, you boneheads! What's the great joke?" "Hurray! George is peeved!" snickered Sidney Finkelstein, while a grin went round the table.
He came out with a vicious determination to do what he pleased. "Well, here's the millionaire!" said Sidney Finkelstein. "Yes, I saw him in his Locomobile!" said Professor Pumphrey. "Gosh, it must be great to be a smart guy like Georgie!" moaned Vergil Gunch. "He's probably stolen all of Dorchester.
Babbitt liked nice love stories about New York millionaries and Wyoming cowpunchers; Louetta Swanson knitted a pink bed-jacket; Sidney Finkelstein and his merry brown-eyed flapper of a wife selected the prettiest nightgown in all the stock of Parcher and Stein. All his friends ceased whispering about him, suspecting him. At the Athletic Club they asked after her daily.
Gosh, they aren't all ignorant, and I got a hunch we're all descended from immigrants ourselves." "Oh, you make me tired!" said Mr. Finkelstein. Babbitt was aware that Dr. A. I. Dilling was sternly listening from across the table. Dr. Dilling was one of the most important men in the Boosters'. He was not a physician but a surgeon, a more romantic and sounding occupation.
Babbitt, Vergil Gunch, Sidney Finkelstein, and even Charles McKelvey told the spectators at movie theaters how great an influence for manly Christianity the "good old Y." had been in their own lives; and the hoar and mighty Colonel Rutherford Snow, owner of the Advocate-Times, was photographed clasping the hand of Sheldon Smeeth of the Y.M.C.A. It is true that afterward, when Smeeth lisped, "You must come to one of our prayer-meetings," the ferocious Colonel bellowed, "What the hell would I do that for?
Babbitt usually sat at the one near the door, with a group including Gunch, Finkelstein, Professor Pumphrey, Howard Littlefield, his neighbor, T. Cholmondeley Frink, the poet and advertising-agent, and Orville Jones, whose laundry was in many ways the best in Zenith. They composed a club within the club, and merrily called themselves "The Roughnecks."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking