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Updated: June 3, 2025
Sequin absently, with her eye on the befuddled butler who was trying to uncork a bottle with a screwdriver, "Let Flathers I mean Benson do that, John, and you take these bags. So sorry I can't go up with you myself, Don, but the cotillion is just beginning, and I have to see to the favors." "That's right, don't bother about me, I'll get into some decent togs and be down again in a little while."
Shove that beer can under the stove, and hide that there cuckoo clock." Chick followed instructions with the air of one who understood the situation. It was not the first time he had prepared hurriedly for visitors. "They're stopping at Jireses'," reported Mr. Flathers from the window. "Here, take this kid and set out there on the door-step.
Flathers," she said, looking at him with what she conceived to be a searching glance, "do you ever drink?" Assuring himself that Chick had gotten the can quite out of sight, Phineas looked at her reproachfully: "Me? Why, Mrs. Ivy, I thought everybody knowed that since I joined the Church of course I ain't denying that there was a time when I knowed the taste of liquor.
"I'll tell you everything to-morrow, Don. You must want to go to your room now. Flathers take this gentleman's bags up to the East guest- room, no, that's occupied. You won't mind going up another flight, just for to-night, dear?" "Oh, tuck me in anywhere, just so there's a bath handy." "All the bedrooms have baths," said Mrs.
"Yes, and Mr. Jires does more for his family lying flat on his back than you do for yours, up and walking around! You're not fooling me one bit, Mr. Flathers, and there's no use trying to fool yourself. You either mean seriously to go to work or you don't. Which is it?" Phineas Flathers' strong impulse was to flee the scene.
Miss Lady leaned impulsively over the child's back as he knelt in a chair beside the table, and kissed the bit of neck that showed between the collar and the curls: "Bert and I?" she repeated with a little catch in her voice; "why, we'll have to take care of each other, won't we, Bert?" The Flathers' family was indulging in a birthday party.
Give me that there plate to pour the candy in." "Look, 'Telia, what Chick traded me!" Myrtella cast a side glance at Bertie's extended palm, and promptly rescinded the deal. "Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Chick Flathers! Tradin' a little fellow's fine marbles fer them comman allies? It's cheatin', that's what it is, it's stealin'! Ain't you ashamed?"
"It's not the Lord that's taking her," Miss Lady cried impatiently, "it's you that are sending her, Mr. Flathers. Can't you see that you are killing your baby?" He looked at her in amazed horror. "Yes, you are!" went on Miss Lady fiercely, "you are selling her food to another baby; you are letting her mother work so hard that she can scarcely nourish herself. Just look at Mrs. Flathers!
At first he supposed he was at home, and that the voice was only Mr. Flathers enjoying one of his periodical backslidings. But Dick Sheeley's voice recalled him; Dick was mad at somebody, and when Dick got mad he fought. Not a boy on Billy-goat Hill but would have faced death to see the ex- prizefighter in a row.
"Yes'm, but one of the young gentlemen skipped the country, lit out fer foreign parts, took to the tall timber, as you might say." "But he was not the one who did the shooting, was he?" asked Miss Lady, a sudden bright spot on either cheek, and the steady determination in her eye that had been Flathers' undoing.
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