Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 27, 2025
Uncle Jimpson is going to drive you in to town to catch the first train in the morning." "I ain't going," insisted the Colonel, shaking his head doggedly. "Yes you are. Where's your traveling bag?" "On the top shelf of the cupboard. But I'm not going." He said it firmly, but the next instant he asked, "Did Jimpson press my gray suit?" "Oh! Squire Daddy, I'm so sorry I forgot to tell him!
The fifty dollars had gone promptly for whiskey and had considerably hurried up the change of ownership in the skeleton. The doctor would put Jimmy Finn's skeleton in Nicodemus's bed! This was done about half past ten in the evening. About Nicodemus's usual bedtime midnight the village jokers came creeping stealthily through the jimpson weeds and sunflowers toward the lonely frame den.
Fanchonette just here became enraged at a bit of paper that was caught in the wheel, and gave vent to such a violent burst of temper that it required the undivided attention of her mistress to calm her. Uncle Jimpson, occupying the smallest possible portion of the seat, and with one leg hanging outside the buggy, rejoiced in the proximity of so much elegance.
It is a serious affair for him, I fear." When in the course of the morning Uncle Jimpson started to the station to meet Mrs. Sequin, he did not have to direct the course of his steed. Had old John not known the way from experience, the inherited memory of his ancestors would have prompted him to turn twice to the right, once to the left, and pull up at a certain corner of the station platform.
She didn't hab a livin', breathin' soul but her paw, 'ceptin' me an' Carline, an' Carline's liable to drop off mos' anytime." "But who is going to live with her?" "I spec she gwine git married some day," Jimpson said hopefully, "all de boys been plumb 'stracted 'bout dat chile since she wuz a little girl. But she wuz so crazy 'bout her paw, she jes laff at 'em.
Robert Grant Burns read that letter through slowly, and then sat down heavily in an old arm-chair in the hotel office, lighted one of his favorite fat, black cigars, and mouthed it absently, while he read the letter through again. He said "John Jimpson!" just above a whisper. He held the letter in his two hands and regarded it strangely.
"Yas, sir, she comes jes' lak me an' Carline, an' wanders roun' de house an' de garden, an' sets in de ole barrel hammock, studyin' to herself." "And Mike, what became of him?" Uncle Jimpson looked at him in surprise, "How'd you know about Mike, Mister?" "Didn't you speak of him a while ago; wasn't he the dog?" "Yas, sir. He's our dog.
So, within ten minutes after we had first glimpsed this nondescript he was one of us, and with his coat off and hard at it. Beyond that end of our establishment which was furthest from the street, was a deserted garden, pathless, and thickly grown with the bloomy and villainous "jimpson" weed and its common friend the stately sunflower.
Arrived at the station Uncle Jimpson stepped jauntily around the post- office box and ostentatiously took out the Carseys' mail. It was a small act to take pride in, but in lieu of more important duties it had to serve. For the past six weeks the advent of city people at Thornwood had stirred up old ambitions in him.
Sequin can give you work at her new house. She gave our old colored man, Uncle Jimpson, a place." "Jes' so it ain't garden work, nor gittin' up coal, nor nothin' that brings on rheumatism." "Have you rheumatism?" "No, mam, Praise God! I have escaped this far by bein' kereful. You know what it means, Mis' Squeerington, when a man with a family gits down with the rheumatism. There's Jires, now "
Word Of The Day
Others Looking