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Updated: June 6, 2025
Passionate but bewildered, trying not to injure the cause of Frazer by being nasty, he begged: "Straight, didn't you like his spiel? Didn't it give you some new ideas?" The senior vouchsafed: "No, 'me and my Y. M. didn't like it. Now don't let me keep you, Ericson. I suppose you'll be wanting to join dear Mr. Frazer in a highball; you're such a pet of his. Did he teach you to booze?
"It couldn't have been." "You've been drinking!" said Janet, slowly. Lise giggled. "What's it to you, angel face!" she inquired. "Quiet down, now, and go bye-bye." Janet sprang from the bed, seized her by the shoulders, and shook her. She was limp. She began to whimper. "Cut it out leave me go. It ain't nothing to you what I do I just had a highball." Janet released her and drew back.
A dim view would be taken back on Terra if I did it without needing to. Dimmer view would be taken of needing to without doing it, though. I'll make another check, first." Gerd van Riebeek sorted the papers on the desk into piles, lit a cigarette and then started to mix himself a highball. "Fuzzies are members of a sapient race," he declared.
Eventually he brought forth a square sheet of paper it had a certain familiarity of aspect for Mrs. Pumpelly and handed it to her. "Sorry to disturb you, ma'am," he apologized, "but I was instructed to make sure and serve you personal." "That's all right! That's all right!" said Pierpont with an effort at bonhomie. "The er butler will give you a highball if you say so."
You will find them in the rancid Tingel-Tangel, blaspheming the kellner because they can't get a highball. You will find them in the Nollendorfplatz gaping at the fairies. You will see them, green-skinned in the tyrannic light of early morning, battering at the iron grating of their hotel for the porter to open up and let them in.
So that, although I was on the edge of a cañon a mile deep, I might as well have been posing on the bank of the Ohio River. On the east side of the Park I had ridden Highball. It is not particularly significant that I started the summer on Highball and ended it on Budweiser.
"Well, I do think you ought to be careful. Don't you see, dear, I don't want you to get sick." "Sick rats! I'm not a baby! I guess I ain't going to get sick just because maybe once a week I shoot a highball! That's the trouble with women. They always exaggerate so." "George, I don't think you ought to talk that way when I'm just speaking for your own good."
I had smuggled into my brain a few words of Spanish by the help of Izzy, and I began to remark in a rich Andalusian brogue: "'Buenas dias, senor. Yo tengo yo tengo "'Oh, sit down, Mr. Bowers, says he. 'I spent eight years in your country in colleges and law schools. Let me mix you a highball. Lemon peel, or not? "Thus we got along.
"I know, but gosh all fishhooks, that's the trouble with women! They're always criticizing and commenting and bringing things up, and then they say it's 'for your own good'!" "Why, George, that's not a nice way to talk, to answer me so short." "Well, I didn't mean to answer short, but gosh, talking as if I was a kindergarten brat, not able to tote one highball without calling for the St.
I did not care for it, neither wanted it nor did not want it, and so small was the impression made by it that I do not remember my first cocktail nor my first Scotch highball. Well, I had a house. When one is asked into other houses, he naturally asks others into his house. Behold the rising standard of living.
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