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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Just what I think," chanted the flapper. "Silly, and then some!" "Then some!" repeated the male being in helpless, terrified corroboration. "Won't he ever come?" queried the Demon. "Oh, here he is!" The waiter was neatly removing tea and things from the tray.
Grandma, on the seat in front of them, stared silently ahead, but there was something ominous in her rigidity. She had the air of a captor. Once when his hand was on Nap the flapper brazenly patted it. He pretended not to notice. "Everything's all right," she said. "Of course," he answered, believing nevertheless that everything was all wrong.
"Just strolling off," he said; "given you up." "Pops wanted to come," explained the flapper. "I had a perfectly annoying time not letting him. What a darling child of a dog! Does he want to well, he shall!" And Nap did at once. He seemed in the flapper to be greeting an old friend.
Now you can hardly imagine a Philadelphia flapper writing an effective companion to Bacon's Essays. But never mind, if the stuff's amusing, it has its place. The human yearning for innocent pastime is a pathetic thing, come to think about it. It shows what a desperately grim thing life has become.
I do not indeed suspect you of being absorbed in abstruse speculations; but, with great submission to you, may I not suspect that levity, inattention, and too little thinking, require a flapper, as well as too deep thinking?
You know, by experience, that I grudge no expense in your education, but I will positively not keep you a Flapper. You may read, in Dr.
The two bags were installed in the ready car; then a radiant flapper beside an amateur upstart. The driver desired instructions. "Ally, ally!" directed Bean, waving a vague but potent hand. "We've done it," rejoiced the flapper. "Serve the perfectly old taggers good and plenty right!" Bean lifted a final gaze to the laurel-crowned Believer. He knew that Believer's secret now.
This flapper is likewise employed diligently to attend his master in his walks; and, upon occasion, to give a soft flap upon his eyes, because he is always so wrapped up in cogitation, that he is in manifest danger of falling down every precipice, and bouncing his head against every post, and, in the streets, of jostling others, or being jostled into the kennel himself.
"You'd never believe," came the voice of the flapper. "I found the darlingest old sideboard with claw-feet yesterday over on Fourth Avenue. He wants two hundred and eighty, but they're all robbers, and I just perfectly mean to make him come down five or ten dollars. Every little counts. You leave it to me." "Sure! You fix it all up!"
But you must pick 'em out, says he, spreadin' his blessed fingers with the gold in 'em: 'for a man can't count money who's lost his right flapper. Those were his words, sir. 'Old friend, he called me, in that way of his." Lieutenant Lapenotiere pointed to his left arm. Around the sleeve a black scarf was knotted. "Dead, sir," the night-porter hushed his voice.
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