United States or Saint Pierre and Miquelon ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He was standing by himself at a printshop window, with his hands behind him, in earnest contemplation of some print, and she not only might have passed him unseen, but was obliged to touch as well as address him before she could catch his notice. When he did perceive and acknowledge her, however, it was done with all his usual frankness and good humour. "Ha! is it you? Thank you, thank you.
With the shoes in his hand he sat looking at a large hole in the heel of one of his stockings. Then looking quickly up he saw George Willard, the only newspaper reporter in Winesburg, standing at the back door of the Eagle printshop and staring absentmindedly about. "Well, well, what next!" exclaimed the young man with the shoes in his hand, jumping to his feet and creeping away from the window.
He was telling a friend of a find he'd made in an old printshop, a pencil sketch by Whistler. He collects such things, I believe. Well, this was something he wanted very badly; but he'd happened to be caught without cash enough to pay for it. So he'd asked the dealer to put it aside until next day. There was my chance.
I thought of five pica plugs lying on the printshop floor. It was hard for me to make myself believe that I had seen human beings killed and wounded. I can hardly believe it yet that those insignificant toy-figures were really and truly men.
The Intelligencer was lodged over the printshop of a local tributary which had agreed to the ousting with the most hypocritical assurances of joy at the honor done them and payment in the smallest possible type by the addition to the great newspaper's masthead of the words, "And Pomona Post-Telegram." Packed into this inadequate space were the entire staff and files of the metropolitan daily.
His picture had even been taken by a young artist in the neighbourhood; nay, the likeness had been multiplied into engravings, somewhat rude and somewhat unfaithful, which might be seen occupying no inconspicuous or dusty corner in the principal printshop of the town: nor was mine host's character a contradiction to his looks.
His head seemed to be flying about like a pinwheel and then projecting itself off into space and his arms and legs flopped helplessly about. At eleven o'clock Tom got back into town. George Willard found him wandering about and took him into the Eagle printshop. Then he became afraid that the drunken boy would make a mess on the floor and helped him into the alleyway.
"Now you quit that," he said. "I won't let Helen White's name be dragged into this. I won't let that happen." He began shaking Tom's shoulder, trying to make him understand. "You quit it," he said again. For three hours the two young men, thus strangely thrown together, stayed in the printshop. When he had a little recovered George took Tom for a walk.
Word Of The Day