Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !

Updated: November 13, 2024


Standing before a case in which was an exquisite book in a queer wrigglesome language, bearing the legend that from this volume Fitzgerald had translated the Rubaiyat, Dr. Mittyford waved his hand and looked for thanks. "Pretty book," said Mr. Wrenn. "And did you note who used it?" "Uh yes." He hastily glanced at the placard. "Mr. Fitzgerald. Say, I think I read some of that Rubaiyat.

A morning of planning his conduct so that in accompanying Istra Nash to the Tate Gallery he might be the faithful shadow and beautiful transcript of Mittyford, Ph.D. As a result, when he stood before the large canvases of Mr.

He pictured a tender girl in golden brown back in the New York he so much desired to see who would await him evenings with a smile that was kept for him. Homey that was what he was going to be! He happily and thoughtfully ran his finger about the rim of his glass ten times. "Time to go, I' m afraid," Dr. Mittyford was saying. Through the exquisite haze that now filled the room Mr.

He was excited, yet frightened and resentful at being "dragged into all this highbrow business" which he had resolutely been putting away the past two hours. As he stole into the car Dr. Mittyford seemed comparatively human, remarking: "I feel bored this evening. I thought I would give you a nuit blanche. How would you like to go to the Red Unicorn at Brempton one of the few untouched old inns?"

We'll forget there are any syndicalists or broken-colorists for a while, won't we? We'll let the robins cover us with leaves." "You mean like the babes in the woods? But, say, I'm afraid you ain't just a babe in the woods! You're the first person with brains I ever met, 'cept, maybe, Dr. Mittyford; and the Doc never would play games, I don't believe. The very first one, really." "Thank you!"

As I see it, your metier would be to travel with a pleasant wife, the two of you hand in hand, so to speak, looking at the more obvious public buildings and plesaunces avenues and plesuances. There must be a certain portion of the tripper class which really has the ability `for to admire and for to see." Dr. Mittyford finished his second toddy and with a wave of his hand presented to Mr.

She sat silent again, apparently not at all satisfied with the architecture of the opposite side of Tavistock Place. Diffidently he edged into speech: "Honest, I did think you was English. You came from California? Oh, say, I wonder if you've ever heard of Dr. Mittyford. He's some kind of school-teacher. I think he teaches in Leland Stamford College." "Leland Stanford? You know him?"

The countess incog. was leaning out, scanning the street uncaringly. Why her windows were next to his! He was living next room to an unusual person as unusual as Dr. Mittyford. He hurried up-stairs with a fervid but vague plan to meet her. Maybe she really was a French countess or somepun'. All evening, sitting by the window, he was comforted as he heard her move about her room. He had a friend.

Mittyford waiting in awesome fur coat, goggles, and gauntlets, centered in the car-lamplight that loomed in the shivery evening fog. "Gee! just like a hero in a novel!" reflected Mr. Wrenn. "Get on your things," said the pedagogue. "I'm going to give you the time of your life." Mr. Wrenn obediently went up and put on his cap.

It was something about a Persian kitten I don't remember exactly." Dr. Mittyford walked bitterly to the other end of the room. About eight in the evening Mr. Wrenn's landlady knocked with, "There's a gentleman below to see you, sir." "Me?" blurted Mr. Wrenn. He galloped down-stairs, panting to himself that Morton had at last found him. He peered out and was overwhelmed by a motor-car, with Dr.

Word Of The Day

delicati

Others Looking