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Updated: May 29, 2025
"What a comfort it is to meet a person who knows his own mind!" exclaimed Mrs. Munger. "Got company, Billy?" asked a voice at the door; and it added, "Glad to see you here, Mrs. Gerrish." "Ah, Mr. Putney! Come in. Hope I see you well, sir!" cried Mr. Gerrish. "Come in!" he repeated, with jovial frankness. "Nobody but friends here." "I don't know about that," said Mr.
"That was a great success," said Mrs. Munger, as they drove away. Annie said nothing, and she added, "Don't you think so?" "Well, I confess," said Annie, "I don't see how, exactly. Do you mean with regard to Mr. Gerrish?" "Oh no; I don't care anything about him," said Mrs. Munger, touching her pony with the tip of her whip-lash.
The master turned on his heel and ushered his guest into the room, leaving Munger to rub his cheek, and wonder to himself how he ever came to stand being knocked about in the way he had been that afternoon. This had happened a day or two ago.
"Why, don't you, doctor?" she questioned back, with a note of personal grievance in her voice. "I'm not very well acquainted with his style. Then, you think he did write it? Of course, there are always various opinions. But I understood you thought he was burned in that accident last winter." "Now, doctor!" said Mrs. Munger, with the pout which Putney said always made him want to kill her.
Munger, "you must allow that it's a good object." "Well, perhaps it is, if it will keep the men away from the rum-holes. Yes, I guess it is. You won't sell liquor?" "We expect to furnish coffee at cost price," said Mrs. Munger, smiling at Putney's joke. "And good navy-plug too, I hope. But you see it would be rather awkward, don't you? You see, Annie?" "Yes, I see," said Annie.
Munger, as immutably as if she were sitting for her photograph and keeping the expression. Annie broke from her reluctance with a sort of violence which carried her further than she would have gone otherwise. She ridiculed Mr. Peck's appearance and manner, and laughed at his ideas to Mrs. Munger. She had not a good conscience in it, but the perverse impulse persisted in her.
Munger, with intense deprecation, "that's such a very different thing. You were not brought up to it; it was just temporary; and besides " "And besides, there was Mr. Wilmington, I know. He was very opportune. I might have been a hand at this moment if Mr. Wilmington had not come along and invited me to be a head the head of his house.
I didn't want anybody to go home feeling sorry that Mercutio was killed. I don't suppose Winthrop could have slept." "You won't sleep yourself to-night, I'm afraid," said his wife. "Oh, Mrs. Munger has promised me a particularly weak cup of coffee. She has got us all in, it seems, for a sort of supper, in spite of everything.
Irvine," the bookbinder replied. "The Socialist?" "Yes." He took the young man aside and told him that he could expect no recognition from the "best citizens" as long as he kept me. Off came my apron, and I looked around again. I was very fond of Dr. T.T. Munger.
Munger was sitting opposite me, and when I began to speak he had just filled his tumbler with water, and was going to drink it. But half-way through he suddenly stopped, and put the tumbler down with such a crack on the table that he spilt half the water on to the cloth. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but it occurs to me now." "Well," said Ainger, "it's an off-chance.
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