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Updated: May 2, 2025
"Now listen, Percey," says I. "I'm the most uncertain party at the present writing that you ever saw. But if I should 'phone, I want you to answer the call like a deputy chief goin' to a third alarm. Get that? And I'm payin' time and a half for every minute after dark. See?" Maybe that wasn't just the way to hire a reverend, but I was too rushed to think up the proper frills.
"But I can't break my promise, Torchy," says she. "That's right," says I, "and I wouldn't ask you to. Let's take the subway." I won; and when I put her in a taxi an hour later she was still blushin' from answerin' questions. I had that paper with the city seal on it in my inside pocket, though. My next job is on the Reverend Percey, the one who did the job for Mr.
The celebrated critic and writer, Edwin Percey Whipple, made a careful examination of King's record in California and sums up his impressions as follows: "As a patriotic Christian statesman he included the real elements of power in the community, took the people out of hands of disloyal politicians, lifted them up to the level of his own ardent soul, and not only saved the state to the Union, but imprinted his own generous and magnanimous spirit on its forming life."
And prompt at 9:30 the Reverend Percey shows up, some out of breath from his dash across from the subway, but ready to shoot his lines as soon as he got his hat off. While he didn't quite have to do that, we didn't waste much time on settin' the stage. "Come on, Vee," says I, takin' her by the hand. "How about over there in our old window alcove, eh? Tum tum-te-tum!" She holds back just a second.
"She nearly frightened the little Percey girl into fits showing her a live snake one afternoon." "Sarah's got a good heart, if you can find it," declared Winnie, "but unless you handle her just right, you're in for a peck of trouble. Rosemary's temper blazes up and burns fierce enough dear knows, but it burns itself out good and clean and leaves a good clean ash.
Then she tosses her chin up, smiles brave at me, and gives my fingers a squeeze. Say, she's some girl. Another minute and the Reverend Percey is off with a flyin' start. He ain't so husky to look at, but he booms out the "Wilt-thou" stuff real impressive and solemn, part of the time peekin' over his glasses at the folks behind, and then lookin' earnest at us.
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