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I can get around her all right, Miss Sadie. I can always tell if a person likes me or not." "Anyways, if her eyes ain't too bad, Mr. Meltzer, I got a date with my friend if his car is out of the shop from having the limousine top taken off. We we're going for a little spin." A quick red belied her insouciance and she made a little foray into the bin of mill-ends.
The way I got to watch the clock like it was a taximeter the whole time I'm out anywheres. It's the limit. Even Max Meltzer gimme the laugh to-day." "You'd never hear me say watch the clock if you'd keep company with a boy like Max Meltzer. A straight, clean boy with honest intentions by a girl lookin' right out of his face.
Among other writers of this period may be named Hans H. Schultz, N. Ostgaard, Harald Meltzer, M.B. Landstad, and the linguist Sophus Bugge. The efforts to bring out the national life and characteristics of the people in literature also led to an attempt to nationalize the language in which the literature was written.
LITERATURE. Works mentioned on pp. 16, 42: Pietschmann, Geschichte der Phoenizier ; Rawlinson, History of Phoenicia ; E. Meycr, Art. Phoenicia in the Encycl. Bibl.; Perrot & Chipiez, History of Art in Phoenicia and Cyprus, 2 vols.; Renan, Mission de Phenicie ; Meltzer, Geschichte der Karthager; F. W. Newman's Defense of Carthage.
Sadie Barnet's own mid-aisle bin had blossomed into a sacrificial sale of lawn remnants, and toward the close of the day her stock lay low, depleted. Max Meltzer leaned out of his bower, and how muted his voice, as if it came from an inner throat that only spoke when the heart bade it. "Little one, them remnants went like hot cakes, didn't they?" "Hot cakes! Well, I guess.
The best ain't none too good for a little lady like you." "Aw, Mr. Meltzer!" Her bosom filled and waned. "Aw, Mr. Meltzer!" "I mean it." An electric bell grilled through his words. Miss Barnet sprang reflexly from the harness of an eight-hour day. "Aw, looka, and I wanted to sneak up before closing and get Dee Dee to snip me two yards of red satin, and she won't cut an inch after the bell.
The words scuttered from her lips like sharp hailstones and she glanced at him sidewise over a hump of uplifted shoulder and down the length of one akimbo arm. "'Cause you're stuck on me! Huh!" Max Meltzer leaned across a counter display of fringed breakfast napkins. "Ain't that a good reason, Miss Sadie? It's a true one." "You're one swell little guesser, you are not.
Do not, ascetic reader, gag at the unsocratic plane. True, Max Meltzer had neither the grain nor the leisure of a sophist, a capacity for tenses or an appreciation of Kant. He had never built a bridge, led a Bible class, or attempted the first inch of the five-foot bookshelf.
Max Meltzer collapsed in an attitude of mock prostration against a stock-shelf. "Gee! that must have been cracked before the first nut." "Smarty!" Across the specially priced mill-ends she flashed the full line of her teeth, and with an intensity his features ill concealed he noted how sweet her throat as it arched. "It's the spring fever gets inside of me and makes me so stretchy, Miss Sadie.
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