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Updated: June 11, 2025
"Twenty-two years come Valentine's day." I looked incredulous. "Oh, I began young. Chris. Morgan, George Bartlett, Sam Parmelee, Charley Healey, and I started on the same day. We now leave New York Saturday night, give Cleveland, Monday; Toledo and Detroit, Tuesday; Fort Wayne and Indianapolis, Wednesday; Chicago, Thursday; St.
She promised to meet him in Deauville, the coming summer, "though," she sighed, "it's becoming too dreadfully banal; nothing but Americans and frowsy English baronesses." And at that moment in Zenith, a cocaine-runner and a prostitute were drinking cocktails in Healey Hanson's saloon on Front Street.
Healey is wrong; I frequently sell a few. It's my trade mark, and known, I may say, in England as well as here." "Yes," said Healey, "Fuller lives on both continents, and brings the steel over in his grip. We have our examples at the hotel and shall be glad to have you come up there. Fuller don't care whether he sells or not; he is rich and traveling only to keep down his flesh." Mr.
I told him that he had one the best of me. He said: "You are the boy scout that was with Capt. Mill last summer, and you rode in my wagon." Then I recognized him. His name was Healey, and at the time was running a restaurant in San Francisco, and he insisted on my going to his place when I got to the city, which invitation I accepted. His establishment was known as the Miners' Restaurant. Mrs.
Horne, Sir George Healey, Mr. M'Donnell, Mr. Wolfenton, Mr. Vaughan there! oh, and Mr. Dodd!" "Well, at all events, it's not for any of those fools I get out of my bed at this time of night. I have a weight on my mind; so do be serious, if you can. Lucy, I tried all yesterday to hide it from myself, but I cannot succeed." "What, dear aunt?"
I'm all out of booze, and the Bunch want to celebrate. Couldn't you just skip down to Healey Hanson's and get some?" "Sure," he said, trying not to sound sullen. "I'll tell you: I'll get Minnie Sonntag to drive down with you." Tanis was pointing to the thin, sarcastic young woman. Miss Sonntag greeted him with an astringent "How d'you do, Mr. Babbitt.
Boston Traveler. MR. HEALEY is in Paris, engaged busily on his Webster and Hayne picture, of which at the time of its projection, so much was said. The canvas is some twenty feet by fourteen, and all the heads will be portraits. It will be valuable, and must command a ready sale. Will Massachusetts buy it for her State House, or South Carolina for her Capitol?
Babbitt melodramatically crept into an apartment containing four round tables, eleven chairs, a brewery calendar, and a smell. He waited. Thrice he saw Healey Hanson saunter through, humming, hands in pockets, ignoring him. By this time Babbitt had modified his valiant morning vow, "I won't pay one cent over seven dollars a quart" to "I might pay ten."
Browne, who was grinning at this allusion to his religion, and said hastily: "O, I don't question the pope's being right. I'm only a stupid old woman and I wouldn't presume to do such a thing. But there's such a thing as common everyday politeness and gratitude. And if I were in Julia's place I'd tell that Father Healey straight up to his face..."
I say to you that a good many houses never suspect the debt they are under to their traveling men, but look upon themselves as the great magnet that draws trade, when nine out of ten dealers care nothing whatever about the principals and buy entirely out of regard for the salesman." I had heard many men speak in the same terms of Healey before, and I hoped I should meet him at dinner.
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