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Updated: June 8, 2025
Something took my appetite when I saw her eat so little, and there was a quantity of food left for somebody to consume, and she hungry. I was afraid we'd have to send for a doctor for Mamie Sue after she had cleared my large napkin we spread to put it all on. The Jamison biscuits are cut on the same plump pattern that Mamie Sue is and all my sandwiches were good and thick.
I can make a ship go faster than light!" Cochrane said with exquisite irony: "Thanks, but we don't need it. We aren't getting paid for that! All we need is a modicum of appreciation for a neurotic son-in-law of a partner of Kursten, Kasten, Hopkins and Fallowe! A public-relations job is all that's required. You give West the theory, and Jamison will do the prophecy, and Bell will write it out."
I give a holler an' begin t' run, but b'fore I could git away another one hit me in th' arm an' whirl' me clean 'round. I got skeared when they was all a-shootin' b'hind me an' I run t' beat all, but I cotch it pretty bad. I've an idee I'd a been fightin' yit, if t'was n't fer Tom Jamison."
And since this is a pretty risky operation, you'd better send a service message asking what you're to do with yourself. They'll probably tell you to take the next rocket back and report to the secretarial pool, I'm afraid. The same fate probably awaits West and Jamison and Bell." Babs said guiltily: "Mr. Cochrane you've been so busy I had to use my own judgment. I didn't want to interrupt you ."
She made an effort to eat and drink; but it was little better than an effort. She gave Jamison his parting instructions he was to remain here until to-morrow; by that time orders would come from Powyss Place. Then, in the dress she had travelled in yesterday, she entered the railway carriage and started upon her return journey. How speedily her honeymoon had ended!
The youth glancing at his companion could see by the shadow of a smile that he was making some kind of fun. As they plodded on the tattered soldier continued to talk. "Besides, if I died, I wouldn't die th' way that feller did. That was th' funniest thing. I'd jest flop down, I would. I never seen a feller die th' way that feller did. "Yeh know Tom Jamison, he lives next door t' me up home.
A shrewd, exacting, penny-for-penny and dollar-for-dollar business woman was concealed under the mask of her good-natured face and air of motherly solicitude. Miss Jamison, at the very start-out of her career, was inspired to call her little "snide" boarding-house after the founder of the particular creed professed by the congregation of the neighboring church.
Since then he has made his living as an evangelist for the colored Baptist church. Mr. Jamison says he does not like to travel around without something more than a verbal word to certify who and what he is. He produced a certificate from the "Illinois Theological Seminary" awarding him the degree of Doctor of Divinity and dated December 15, 1933, and signed by Rev.
Not a muscle of Jamison's face moved not a vestige of surprise or any other earthly emotion was visible in his smooth-shaven face. If she had said, "To-morrow by the earliest train I shall take a trip to the moon," Mr. Jamison would have bowed and said, "Yes, me lady," in precisely the same tone. "Is dinner served?" his young mistress asked, looking at her watch. "If not, serve immediately.
"Well, I don't b'lieve in matches around a barn, but I'll show you something;" and he opened the door, struck a match, and, holding it aloft, revealed a heap of turnips, another of carrots, five barrels of potatoes, and three of apples. The children pounced upon the last with appetites sharpened by their morning's work. "You see," resumed Mr. Jones, "these were here when old man Jamison died.
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