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Updated: May 6, 2025
Yesterday afternoon father wanted to sleep, and Mr. Mortimer started his orchestrion just to annoy him." "I think I'm not quite sure I think that's a tort," said Sam. "A what?" "Either a tort or a misdemeanour." "Why, you do know something about it after all!" cried Billie, startled into a sort of friendliness in spite of herself.
"Three rousing cheers!" replied Cousin Egbert, and to my great chagrin he leaped to his feet, seized one of the navvies about the waist, and there on the public pavement did a crude dance with him to the strain of the "Marseillaise" from the steam orchestrion.
Bennett, meanwhile, had reached the drawing-room, and found his former friend lying at full length on a sofa, smoking a cigar, a full dozen feet away from the orchestrion, which continued to thunder out its dirge on the passing of Summer. "Will you turn that infernal thing off!" said Mr. Bennett. "No!" said Mr. Mortimer. "Now, now, now!" said a voice.
They are always scrupulously clean which is a wonder for Russian peasants for they are made to change their clothes twice a day. They have a magnificent orchestrion instead of an orchestra here, and I could scarcely eat those beautiful dinners for listening to the music. We became so well acquainted with the répertoire that our friends, knowing our taste, ordered the music to match the courses.
But at this moment, from the regions downstairs, there suddenly burst upon the silent night such a whirlwind of sound as effectually dissipated the tense emotion in the room. Somebody appeared to have touched off the orchestrion in the drawing-room, and that willing instrument had begun again in the middle of a bar at the point where Jane Hubbard had switched it off four afternoons ago.
Hignett, who had been a chaffing auditor of this interchange of courtesies, "is beside the point. Why did you dance in the hall, Samuel, and play the orchestrion?" "Yes," said Mr. Bennett, reminded of his grievance, "waking people up." "Scaring us all to death!" complained Mr. Mortimer. "I remember you as a boy, Samuel," said Mrs.
"The orchestrion, eh? Ah! H'm!" said Sam. "You still haven't made it quite clear," said Billie. "I was thinking." "Oh, if you want to think!" "Tell me the facts," said Sam. "Well, Mr. Mortimer and my father have taken a house together in the country, and for some reason or other they have quarrelled, and now Mr. Mortimer is doing everything he can to make father uncomfortable.
Hignett, who had been a chafing auditor of this interchange of courtesies, "is beside the point. Why did you dance in the hall, Samuel, and play the orchestrion?" "Yes," said Mr. Bennett, reminded of his grievance, "waking people up." "Scaring us all to death!" complained Mr. Mortimer. "I remember you as a boy, Samuel," said Mrs.
With stiff wooden legs, they swept on in a never-ending race, while a great orchestrion clamored in wild speed. The summer sunlight sprinkled its gold upon the garnet canopies carried by the tireless racers and upon all the devices of decoration that made Stimson's machine magnificent and famous.
There was only one instrument in the house which could create this infernal din the orchestrion in the drawing-room, immediately above which, he recalled, his room was situated. He rang the bell for Webster. "Is Mr. Mortimer playing that that damned gas-engine in the drawing-room?" "Yes, sir. Tosti's 'Good-bye. A charming air, sir." "Go and tell him to stop it!" "Very good, sir." Mr.
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